The Slow Path of Rehabilitation
by Silver Pard
Summary: Light has a problem. Light has lots of problems. None of them seem to be going away, despite his best efforts. Redivivus Side Stories.
1. Therapy

A/N: You may have guessed, but this is crack inspired by an offhand contemplation of Light's in Redivivus. I'm starting to think I should just make a collection fic just for somewhere to put the ideas that aren't used or the events that don't get seen in-fic. Next up would be the Shinigami Betting Pool, or the Kira Convention, and after that, anyone and everyone could feel free to throw ideas at the wall and see what sticks.

* * *

The Slow Path of Rehabilitation

Makoto was pleased with himself. At forty-eight, a social worker for twenty of those years, you'd have thought he knew better by now. Nonetheless, he was pleased. Sat in front of him in a staggered semi-circle of resentful faces were sixteen recovering addicts. All of them, he believed, were well on their way to recovery. At the very least, they admitted they had a problem, which was a start.

Makoto's problem was his sheer exuberance tended to irritate or exhaust his recovering patients (he had a grand total of seventeen scars that could bear witness to this) and he never seemed to realise he was fighting a losing battle. Two hundred and fifty-six of his former patients – that he knew of – had gone back to their addictions and at least half had died as a direct consequence. On the other hand, five hundred and twenty-four patients had gone on to lead quite possibly fulfilling but at the very least productive lives, so he considered himself to be winning.

"Who wants to go first?" he said brightly.

'Tama' – whose real name was Noriko, and he still wondered why they bothered – snorted. "Do we _have_ to do this every time?"

"Now, now, it's a good trust-building exercise," he chided, "and it serves its purpose."

"Fine," she huffed. "My name's Tama," – Noriko – "and I'm an addict."

"Very good," Makoto praised. Half of the semi-circle ducked their heads with an exasperated groan that he ignored.

It was at this moment that Makoto's day went from good to bad in less time than it takes to slam a door. Which was to say, five seconds, that being the time to took for the door to slam open and a small figure to stroll in with more confidence than Makoto had witnessed in a long time. "Am I late?" it said curiously, its voice soft, high, and most definitely a child's.

Shimura. It had to be one of Shimura's practical jokes. Well, Makoto would show him. "No, no," he said brightly. "Take a chair."

The boy looked at him for a long moment. Makoto was in the habit of studying people – it made his job a little more interesting, to try and figure the stories behind his patients' falls from grace. He could tell at a glance that the boy was well cared for, probably denied nothing, and supremely confident. He would have to tell Shimura to pick his dupes a little better next time.

He dragged the heaviest, most padded chair over – despite the abundance of the generic plastic creations the rest of the room was seated on – and crawled onto it, to sit there and stare at them with half-lidded eyes that said he thought this all to be faintly pathetic.

"Well." Makoto found he couldn't stop staring. The boy blinked his dark eyes and continued to outstare him beneath his auburn hair as he compulsively straightened his already neat school uniform. "Would you like to introduce yourself?"

"Ah," the boy said, and cocked his head to one side, like a curious crow. "My name is Matsuda Takeshi," he said, and Makoto found himself unsurprised by the unshakable confidence in the voice he professed the lie in. "And I am a murder addict."

The room's inhabitants straightened involuntarily, even _Hideaki_, who couldn't stop jittering long enough to say his own name without stuttering.

… a joke too far.

"Did Shimura put you up to this?" Makoto demanded.

The boy looked faintly bored. "No," he said flatly. "I am merely seeking help for a condition that has recently been brought to my attention. I apologise if it unsettles you, but I believed it to be the best course available that I seek help for my – problem, rather than return to ignoring it, as I had been doing previously."

"That's enough," Makoto snapped. "I'm not in the mood for Shimura's games."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Your compatriot is in Osaka and has been for the past three days. His prank was the cake gag that you have already run afoul of. Now, this _is_ a rehab clinic, isn't it? So rehabilitate me."

"Listen, er – "

"Matsuda." The boy said coolly. "As I have already told you."

"Little boy," Makoto said, and was pleased to note that the aforementioned boy sucked in an affronted breath, "this _is_ a rehabilitation clinic, and it deals with serious problems. I'll thank you not to make fun of the good work we try to do here."

"I am hardly belittling your work, Makoto-san. I am simply asking for help. I fail to see how you reached the conclusion that I thought little of your work when I have made it abundantly clear that I require your assistance precisely _because_ of your work."

Makoto had a very slow temper. It made him the favourite to deal with people like Tama, with people who hated his help and wanted to keep their favourite life-destroying crutch. Some of his patients were the most aggravating people you could hope to meet. Makoto had never lost his temper at any of them, even Hideaki, who had once hit him with a chair and rifled his pockets for the cash for just one more hit. They'd been doing so well too. "That's _enough_," he yelled. "I don't care what kind of joke you think you're playing, but that's it! Get out of here!"

The boy's expression of faint irritation became something close to malevolence. "I see," he said after a moment. "Do you suppose the prisons offer a similar service to yours to those individuals with problems equivalent to my own? It would be a very poor thing if I did have to return to my previous denial."

Makoto had never hit a child before. He didn't plan to start either. "Out!" he hissed.

The boy stood up, brushed his spotless clothes off and turned and walked away with remarkable indifference. He paused at the door. "I won't forget this, Makoto-san," he warned over his shoulder, hand still on the doorknob.

Makoto snorted.

When he opened his mail two weeks later he discovered a packet containing photographs and documentation proving that his daughter – missing for seven years – was a prostitute. Makoto realised that he had seen her and not realised it. She had been in the news the day before as the latest victim of the Tokyo Strangler.

'I apologise for the delay,' said the typed note that drifted loose when he dropped the papers in shock. 'I was busy seeking replacement therapies, none of which matched my requisite needs. I discovered your daughter's whereabouts before I visited, but in all the excitement of my subsequent expulsion, it slipped my mind.'

* * *

"You're a bastard, Light, you know that?"

"Thank you, Ryuk."

"I mean it. Seriously."

"How was I supposed to know she was going to be murdered?"

"You could have posted it before she did though."

"Hindsight is 20/20. I'm going to catch the Strangler eventually, though, he can take comfort in that."

"Sh'yeah, right. Even _I_ know better than that."

* * *

Prison 21 contained some of the vilest, most depraved criminals in Tokyo. Currently Doctor Nishida was listening to a serial killer fantasise about his favourite murder. He tended to linger a long time over the myriad uses he put his victim's blue hair ribbon to, and for the fifth time that hour Nishida felt himself become more than a little queasy. The rest of the circle either nodded in agreement or looked like they were contemplating ripping Osabuyoshi's spine out through his mouth.

At five o'clock the door opened and a little boy walked into a room full of murderers and rapists and sat down. Strangely, none of the men looked inclined to go anywhere near the child. Not even Takimura, who had raped and killed five boys of a similar age to the one now sitting cross-legged on a plastic chair opposite him.

"I do have the right place?" the boy said, eyes drifting from person to person. "Doctor Nishida? You _do_ attempt to… 'cure' these men of their… homicidal urges?"

"That's not quite -- well, we-- uh. Yes."

"Oh good," the boy sighed.

Well, what was he supposed to say to that? "Um."

"Would you like me to introduce myself?"

"…That would be nice," he said helplessly as he wondered how to alert the guards to the fact that a vulnerable twelve year old was sitting in a room with some of the most vicious criminals in the prison.

"My name for the purposes of this room is Asahi. I've killed more people than everyone in this room put together, and to be blunt, I need some serious help."

He squeezed his eyes shut. It was simple. He was cursed. Nishida Isamu got all the freaks. His medical school companions had always teased him about it.

He opened his eyes and was surprised to see the dangerous men in the room didn't look in the slightest amused by the boy's announcement. In fact, if he was reading Ayoshi's body language correctly, they were all inclined to picking their restraints and either beating him to death or running as far and fast as possible in the opposite direction.

The boy sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Doctor Nishida, your input _is_ required."

"…um. I can prescribe you some anti-psychotics…?" The boy stared at him. Suddenly Nishida had no doubt that he was perfectly capable of killing over thirty people. "Or not…"

"I see we are going to have some problems," the boy said.

"You don't _seriously_ expect me to--"

"I seriously expect you to pay attention when I'm talking and make the best use of that degree you have sitting in your office."

He's only a child, Nishida found himself repeating over in his head. He's only a bizarre, absolutely terrifying little boy that frightens a room full of murderers. Nishida had never quite gotten the current trend of horror movies where a young child was the visible incarnation of senseless murdering evil. Looking at 'Asahi', who somehow made him think of the western Grim Reaper, scythe in one hand and list of names in the other, he felt he finally understood the reason.

"I think it's best that you leave," he said weakly.

Asahi gave each of the men in the room a long, measuring look. They all looked like they wanted to shuffle their feet and duck their heads. "Perhaps that's best," he agreed. "These… people… are giving me ideas."

Doctor Nishida, first in his class, hummed tunelessly until he heard the door slam and a guard poked his head round with a confused look. "Did you just see a little kid go by?"

"A little kid? _Here?_" Was it a creepy little boy who looked like he ought to have red eyes?

"Ugh. Must be seeing things…"

* * *

"I can't believe you got that guy fired."

"He was useless."

"You fired him."

"_Useless_. If it weren't for certain security measures he'd have been torn limb from limb years ago."

"Ah, so you did it out of the goodness of your heart?"

"Oh, of course. Speaking of the goodness of my heart, it was a really bad idea to go there…"

"Gave you bad ideas, right?"

"Must not write their names down. Must not write their names down. Absolutely… must… not…"

"Do you even know their names?"

"Of course I do. Do you want me to recite them?"

"… I could always decide to practise my handwriting."

"You're not helping!"

"I _am_ a shinigami. It's in the job description that I kill people."

"Shut up, Ryuk!"

* * *

"Let me see if I have this right…" Kumiko had never, in all her eleven interminable years as a psychiatrist, heard such a bizarre introduction. That the speaker was barely twelve made it all the more fascinating. "You claim to be a member of an organisation of world-famous detectives, and you have a severe addiction to… murder?"

"Incorrect," the boy informed her serenely. "I said my name was Kira. I made no mention of the detective, or _detectives_, as you and many others believe the case to be."

"It's supposed that Kira must be a group," she pointed out over her clipboard. Kumiko had followed Kira's appearance in the Japanese law enforcement circles with interest, out of professional curiosity more than anything, finding both his choice of moniker and his likely motives to be of great interest.

"In a manner of speaking. However, all those people must answer to someone."

"And is that 'someone' you?" she asked, lips twitching.

He seemed unconcerned by her visible scorn. "Perhaps."

Kumiko decided that at least she was being entertained. "Please, do go on."

'Kira' tilted his head and smiled. "You don't believe me. That's precisely why I chose to use the name. You'd be laughed out of work if you ever seriously tried to use this session against me. But," he pulled his legs up onto the chair and wrapped his arms around them, "I really am a murder addict and I do need help."

"I'm not sure why you chose a psychiatrist for this…"

"Well." He paused, surveyed her a moment, that bleak smile still on his face. "The delight I get from killing must be more a psychological high than a physical one, wouldn't you agree? It's not as if I can use a chemical substitute to wean myself off. The desire to kill, also, is something psychological, isn't that right?"

Kumiko decided she'd never met a more screwed-up child. "How many people have you killed, Kira-chan?"

The look of irritation he gave her made her almost – almost – reconsider her former amusement. "Lots." He said shortly.

"Come now, I can't help you if you're not honest with me."

"Thousands," he said reluctantly. "Hundreds of thousands. I'm… not quite certain of the exact number." He looked irritated with himself at the thought of being unable to give a precise number. Kumiko could have told him to just make one up, it wasn't as if she didn't know it was an elaborate fabrication, but decided he needed to be humoured a little while longer.

"And why do you kill, Kira-chan?"

"Did," he corrected. "Why _did_ I kill. I killed criminals. I tried to make this world a better place, that's all."

"Uh-huh."

"It wasn't as if it was really killing," he mused, staring at her through his neat hair. "Write down a name, picture a face. Dokun. Heart attack."

Kumiko made a note on her papers to find out who the boy was and tell his parents that he needed intensive therapy, and not with her.

"Ryuk," the boy said, turning in his seat to look at the closed door. "Please give me a scrap of your note."

My. Seeing hallucinations? The boy was a bundle of mental disorders. She scribbled faster, until she felt the brush of paper against her hand and looked up to scold him.

Her mouth dropped open. She had to be screaming – although she couldn't hear it – because the boy slapped her, and she realised that the silence had a ringing sound to it and her throat hurt in a way it hadn't since _that_ roller coaster ride.

"Hi," the thing floating behind the boy said.

"Nnn…"

"This is Ryuk," Kira said calmly. "He is a shinigami. He thinks you're funny, which is good. It means he won't kill you now. But precisely because you are funny he _will_ remember you, so he might kill you later."

"Oh… oh my _god_…"

"You've been very rude, Hatakeda-san." The boy frowned – no, _pouted_ – looking so hurt it couldn't possibly be true. "I came here in all seriousness, expecting help and understanding, and you've barely listened to a word I said."

"ohmygodohgodohgod--"

"So I'm going to tell you something. You see that book, on Ryuk's belt? That's a Death Note. If you write the name of a human in there while picturing their face, that human will die. There are countless ways to kill someone with a Death Note."

"oh_goooodddd_--"

"There are hundreds, if not thousands of creatures like Ryuk. They are all very arbitrary. You'd better hope, Hatakeda-san, they don't look at you and decide to write your name down."

She was screaming again, but she barely noticed.

* * *

"…I think you're the scariest being I've ever met."

"What? What'd I do?"

"That poor woman."

"She wasn't taking me seriously."

"Light, I know enough about humans now that I know _nobody_ is going to take a twelve year old claiming to be a murder addict seriously."

"She could have pretended."

* * *

"Hello, my name is Sakurako and I am your psychic for this session—" she looked up, and started screaming. Light turned to look at Ryuk at the exact moment Ryuk looked at him. Light raised his eyebrows, Ryuk gave the impression of raising non-existent eyebrows and they turned back to the cowering young woman at the same moment.

"Are you sure she can't see you?" Light said curiously as he picked his way through the wavering stacks of paper that decorated the office.

"Positive," Ryuk said, hunching a little behind Light anyway. "Are you sure it's not _you_ she's screaming at?"

"She'd be the first," Light said, stopping a foot away from where she huddled in the corner of the room, shaking. "Perfectly normal sweet child here."

Ryuk snorted. "I don't get you humans," he muttered. "I'm nowhere near as dangerous as you, but the minute they spot me s'all 'monster! Yaahh!'"

Light smiled into the near-silence. "Ma'am?" he said curiously, leaning in closer for a better look as she tried to make herself as small as possible.

Sakurako's rapid breathing was his only answer.

"Ma'am, you are in no danger."

Whimper.

"I merely wished to request your assistance--"

"Monster! Monsterrrr!"

Ryuk covered his ears with a familiar whine that grated on Light's nerves far more than the repetitive shrieking. "Light, I know you're trying to kick _your_ habit and all, but can I _please_ have an apple now? I could cope with this better with an apple."

Light ignored him, staring at the screeching woman. "…Are you _absolutely sure_ she can't see you, Ryuk?"

"Light, she's pointing at you."

"…Just our luck to pick the one real psychic this side of Tokyo."

* * *

"I don't know why you thought a psychic could help you anyway."

"I didn't. I just thought it might be funny."

"Yeah?"

"Well, wasn't it? Even with the screaming."

"Oh, absolutely. Can I have an apple now?"

"No. If I'm going cold turkey, you can too."

"But Liiiiiiigghhhtttt--"

"Shut up."

* * *

Sachiko was a smart woman. Not as intelligent as her son, but smart. So she never asked why he reached for a pen when angry, and she didn't ask where he'd been when he should have been at his non-existent tennis club, and she didn't ask what was wrong when he came home one evening, flung several train tickets in the wastepaper basket and stomped up to his room in a fine temper, pausing only to snatch an apple from the fruit bowl.

She turned the TV up instead, and wondered if cooking his favourite meal would help.

* * *

"That's it. I give up."

"I think you should try some more."

"I am not your travelling comedy act."

"But Light…"

"Ryuk, if you shut up you can have an apple."

"If you give me more apples, I'll get you another Death Note."

"…_Idiot_… … How many apples?"


	2. Peanut Gallery

Peanut Gallery

(The shinigami betting pool is going strong.)

"Five that he kills him."

"Eh? You know the rules! He can't kill anyone!" Gukku – unofficial official keeper of the Kira betting pool – looked over at Deridoveley with mild bemusement. Deridoveley, the only shinigami still willing to gamble with Gukku despite the temper tantrums at his constant losing, looked utterly unrepentant. That could have been a side effect of his face being a mask of bone and generally incapable of expressing emotion.

"No, he just has to save more people than he killed. There's nothing there that says he can't kill anyone." Armonia Justin Beyondormason would never admit to being at the same level as the average shinigami, but even he was not quite as immune to the lure of watching the human Kira as he liked to pretend.

He was in fact quite intrigued by him. He had been quite puzzled at first by the apparent attraction the human had for some shinigami – even if he did have a Death Note. But he had 'seen the light', as Ryuk had once jokingly termed the phenomenon. Kira could circumvent the Death Note rules in ways Justin had never considered in all his existence, and priding himself as he did on his near total knowledge of all the innumerable rules that governed every aspect of the shinigami realm, it was both a challenge and a demonstration as to how they could be improved.

"But… surely killing someone would put his score back?" Kinddara said, puzzled, scratching at the ragged stitches bisected her skull, pulling the flesh tight and making her sharp teeth look even longer than they already were. She looked irritated, though whether it was at her confusion or at the pointless things they were willing to bet over was anyone's guess. "He'd just make more work for himself."

"Nah," Calikarcha put in, "given what the L human's been doing he'd have a clean board, it would mean less work."

"Well _maybe_ but-- oooh. _Someone_ forgot to write their names."

"That makes two this month!" called another voice. "Pay up Gukku!"

"Time's not up yet! There might still be one more!"

Deridoveley decided that the _real_ topic of conversation had been ignored long enough, and waved his webbed hands about in an attempt to draw attention back to actual betting. "Three that the King brings back Rem and Jealous."

"What's that got to do with Kira?" Calikarcha said, the numerous eyes along the sides of his head narrowing in puzzlement.

"Gah, you've got more eyes than brains, don't ya?"

"I _dare_ you to say that around Nu," Calikarcha muttered, unable to refute the accusation.

"Don't ya remember nuthin'? Jealous saved that human girl Kira was with first time round. And then Rem gave her a Note, an' killed L while she was at it…"

"You're telling it wrong, Deridoveley," interrupted another. "Rem got cornered by Kira who tricked her into killing L for the sake of the human female which meant two obstacles down in the same writing space."

"…how do you remember such things, Zellogi?"

"Unlike _somebody_ I actually paid attention."

"Oh yeah, 'cause we all thought the human was somethin' special."

Zellogi gave a good impression of surprise from beneath his bandages. "Well, isn't it?"

"…Weirdo."

"Yeah, better be careful, Zellogi, you'll end like Ryuk."

Zellogi looked unimpressed by the insult. "So? Ryuk's got the best seat in the house."

"…human-lover."

Snorting with disinterest at this turn of events, Zellogi's attention went back to the board. "How about maiming him instead?" he suggested. Somewhere behind him, another shinigami crumbled to dust.

"We have another loser!" Kinddara said, looking amused. "Who's keeping score? We have a number three!"

"Damn it, Vech!" wailed the former shinigami's gambling partner, who'd been sitting next to him when he had the misfortune to disintegrate. "How could you forget to write any names?! Now I'll have to pay up, you useless pile of dust!"

"Hah! Hand it over!"

Shaking his head at their antics, Gukku turned back to the more sensible shinigami, those still focussed on the serious business of gambling. "Okay, okay, anyone else to bet on Misa Amane?"

"D'you mean the likelihood of meeting her, hitting her or killing her?"

"The odds on meeting her are 10-1, hitting her is considered a sub-bet, odds are 5-1, and killing her is 2-1. Anyone want to make any other suggestions while we're here?"

"Dating?" suggested a shinigami closest to the viewing pool, wrapped in multi-coloured ribbons.

The other shinigami gave him a collective incredulous look. "…What?"

"Er…" said the shinigami guiltily. He was both young and still enamoured of the human world outside of the desire to find names, neither of which gained him any sympathy. "…dating?" he repeated in a very small voice.

"And just what, Shinigami Kedin," Gukku said acidly, "is 'dating'?"

"It's… uh… a human thing."

"D'you hear that, Deridoveley? A human thing! Well that's just maddeningly unhelpful now, isn't it."

Shinigami Kedin shrank in on himself. "It's what they call part of the mating ritual between humans," he muttered. "Y'know, to make more humans."

Gukku contemplated that bizarre thought for a moment. "All in favour for adding 'dating' to the Amane list?"

The majority of hands rose. Deridoveley shook his head. "How are we supposed to tell if it happens if we don't even know what it is?"

"We'll just have to ask Kedin, now, won't we?" Gukku said, levelling the beribboned shinigami with a look that made him shudder and edge away, clearing wishing he hadn't said anything.

"I've got an idea for a new list," Midora suggested after a moment's silence, diverting attention away from the unfortunate Kedin. "Ryuk."

"Ryuk?" Daril Ghiroza looked up from the gambling bones for a moment. "Ryuk the human-lover?"

"Do we have another Ryuk? _Yes_, of course I mean _that_ Ryuk! Think about it. He's spent over fifteen human years following his little pet around. You know what that means?"

"He's a disgrace to all shinigami?"

Midora's tail slapped the ground with irritation. "_No_. It means we need to bet on his actions! Why hasn't anyone thought of it before?"

Gukku shrugged. He had been Ryuk's friend, before Ryuk had gone and 'lost' his Note in the human world and forgotten to come back. "He's still a shinigami, even if he is weird. Doesn't feel right."

Midora drew her heavy body up to its full height. "Broken skulls and rat bones!" she said regally, naming the worst throw you could get. "It needs to be done! He's practically doing a public service down there. And when was the last time he was up here anyway?"

They shrugged. Zellogi scratched at his feathered headdress with his hooked left hand, scattering long pinions everywhere. "Obviously it was when he asked the Old Man to break the rules for Kira."

"No," Justin stirred himself enough to argue. "No rules were broken for Kira. They were just… subverted."

"Tch," Zellogi said dismissively. "Either there are rules or there aren't, and one of the rules was that a human whose name is written in the Death Note doesn't get to live again. And I don't know about you, but Kira looks pretty alive to me."

"Well yes," Justin admitted, "but I think you'll find there were still no rules broken--"

"Who cares about rules?" Midora said impatiently. "We were talking about betting on Ryuk!"

"Rules are important," Justin snapped, the light glinting off his jewelled skull in a way that made his expression look threatening even to the other shinigami.

"Oh come on! Ryuk says his _human_ knows the rules better than half of us put together!"

"Well that's _Ryuk_, isn't it?" Daril pointed out, bringing their attention to the fact that Ryuk's name had become slang for a shinigami far more interested in the human world than it ought to be. To say someone was pulling a Ryuk was one of the worst insults a 'proper' shinigami could receive.

"All in favour of adding Ryuk as a separate factor?" Midora announced. After a moment's consideration, just over half the hands went up. Midora triumphantly scrawled Ryuk's name on the weathered board that held the table of current bets. "Any suggestions?" she said, tapping the space where his actions would go.

Gukku took a glance at the human pool, catching sight of Ryuk chomping quite happily at an apple, eyes fixed on his human's back. "Apples," he suggested after a moment. "How many times he's willing to do the human's orders for the sake of apples."

"Or how many times he's punished by taking them away," added Zellogi.

"_Punished_?" Daril said, startled, finally giving up entirely on her attempt to remain unconnected to the current craze of the realm. "A _human _punish a _shinigami_?"

"Clearly you've never watched them," Zellogi said dryly. "I've seen him perform tricks for the sake of apples. Mind you," he added, contemplating the apple he'd taken the last time he visited the human world under the pretext of killing someone. "Can't say I blame him, really."

He received much the same disgusted stares as Kedin, but being older and openly quite curious about the human world even before Ryuk had made himself a laughing stock, was unconcerned by them.

"Apples." Midora said, and drew an unmistakable apple on the board. "Punishment and incentive. Anything else?"

"…how many people he kills to keep the human safe." Zellogi suggested.

"He can't do that," Justin said with exasperation. "There's a rule against it and the punishment is severe to say the least."

"Oh yeah?" Zellogi said. "Someone hasn't being paying attention then, 'cause I've _seen_ him write a name down when the human was in trouble."

"It can't have been life-threatening trouble then," Justin argued, who knew exactly what trouble it had been and secretly agreed, but was eager to maintain the fiction that he was generally unconcerned with Kira. Justin's interest in the goings-on of Ryuk and his human was purely academic, and everyone knew it.

"Looked pretty life-threatening to me," interjected Deridoveley. "I mean, I thought that other human was trying to crush him."

"_Crush_ him?" Midora said puzzled. "When was this? Why would a human want to crush another human?"

"Well, maybe he wasn't," Zellogi mused. "I mean, you know humans are different sizes depending on their age?"

"_Really_?" Kinddara said, puzzled, scratching her head with one hand before snagging her stitches on one claw and cursing. "How odd."

"Humans are odd," Zellogi said, dismissing the interruption. "What I mean is that Kira was a young human at the time and the other human was built a bit more like Mid-" he caught himself in time and quickly changed direction. "—was adult-size and then some. It might just have _looked_ like he was going to crush him and the danger was in something else about it."

Looks were exchanged. "I think Ryuk is supposed to ensure Light Yagami isn't badly damaged by what the human himself calls 'misadventures'," Justin said slowly, pensively twisting the rings on his fingers. "But his protection shouldn't be to the extent where he himself could logically expect to be punished…"

"Ryuk's soft when it comes to the human," Gukku said dismissively, "So we add it to the list, so what? What _I_ want to know is why he felt the need to kill someone if Kira _wasn't_ about to be crushed."

Kedin opened his mouth instinctively to yell a hopeful 'I have an idea', and then thought of his earlier humiliation, considered his idea and decided better of trying to explain the puzzling mechanics of sex to the other shinigami, especially when he didn't quite understand it himself. Humans were _weird_, and nothing seemed to be quite as weird as how they made more humans.

There was a long, puzzled silence as each one developed their theories and dismissed them. Eventually Midora slapped her tail down and said enough was enough. "How many times Ryuk will willingly abase himself for the human – of his own will, without orders," she said firmly, daring them to disagree with her decision.

"Are we back on topic?" muttered a puzzled Kinddara to her neighbour.

"We _have_ a topic?" was the startled reply. "I thought we lost that six months ago?"

"…how many humans Ryuk kills, period…"

"…think that's goes under the one we've already decided on…"

"…Ryuk kills L…"

"Never happen. Place your bets."

"If we're talking about shinigami involvement…" Zellogi said, disrupting a less than civil debate on Ryuk's level of non-devotion. "Whether or not one of us drops a Death Note. And all the possible topics therein contained."

There was a beat of silence. Then every shinigami turned to their neighbour, expressed their disbelief that they hadn't thought of it first, and an all-out brawl quickly developed over which one of them would, if ever, get the opportunity to royally screw things up down in the human world.

* * *

"Ryuk?" Light frowned. "Do you ever get the feeling people are talking about you?"

"All the time. Shinigami are incurable gossips when they're not sleeping. Kind of goes with the gambling being a major pastime."

"Ah." A beat. "Ryuk--"

"I'm not going to the shinigami realm just to soothe your paranoia."

"I was going to ask if you wanted to place any bets."

"Oh." Ryuk paused, tried to look at that less than helpful statement the way Light would. "…y'mean, find out what they're betting on, get a proxy to bet for me, come back and skew the whole thing?"

"Mmm."

"…what did I ever do without you?"

"Languish in an eternal pit of despair, I expect." Light said absently, and returned to plotting L's downfall.


	3. Heir

Heir

_(As suggested by Lady Ikuku: L decides to kill two birds with one stone and get Light as his heir. Light is not amused in the slightest by L's methods of persuasion. Think of it as the crack alternative to chapter eight.)_

"Hello, Light-kun."

Light opened his mouth to scream, remembered the house was empty and the disguise pointless, and closed it again. "Hello, Stalker-san. You're… uh… you look kinda… neat. Someone bribed you?"

L was wearing a suit. Sure, it had more buttons undone than was strictly expected, the shirt was untucked and the collar loose and Light was pretty sure L was going to incinerate it the moment he had no further need of it to make sure the neighbours didn't ask too many questions… but he'd been almost certain L would _never_ wear suit, not even for his funeral (he hadn't last time).

It had a _tie_.

L tugged at his cuffs and then looked at Light. "I'm a door-to-door salesman. May I come in?"

"…I really don't think so."

"Light-kun," L pouted. _Pouted_. Did he know how much Light hated that expression? "We have some serious matters to discuss, and I'd really prefer not to do so on your front step."

"Strangers aren't allowed in the house."

"We're not strangers," L said cheerfully. "And if you don't let me in, I'm just going to have to force my way in, you'll scream, I'll have to knock you out to avoid the neighbours, you'll then wake up with no idea where you are or how you got there and no way of escape, and it's all a terrible unnecessary fuss that could be easily avoided by you just taking a step to the right."

"That is… the creepiest explanation ever for why I _should _let you in. I don't think it's going to work."

"You're paying too much attention to the wrong part, Light-kun," L explained patiently. "I want to tell you about something, most particularly where you might be going. I would think the information would be worth the mild discomfort of allowing me into your home."

"I'm not going anywhere," Light snapped, but took a step to the right anyway, just in case L really did intend to follow through on his threat to kidnap him. He wouldn't put it past him – after all, Mello had to have got the idea from somewhere. It could have been some bizarre homage – those kids were seriously fucked up.

"Sad to say, Light-kun, but you will." L said, strolling past him and kicking the door shut with his foot before adopting his normal posture once more with a sigh of relief.

Light had a sinking feeling he'd made a terrible mistake. "You're trying to kidnap me!"

"No," L said, wandering into the living room. "Aren't you going to offer refreshments?"

Light stared at him. "After you forced your way in?"

"I don't recall any struggle," L pointed out, annoyingly correct. "I just thought you might be more at ease with something to occupy you. And I would quite like a cup of tea."

"I don't _want_ to be at ease when you're around," Light said stubbornly, crossing his arms as he sat on the couch, uneasily aware of L's eyes taking in all the exits. "That means you'll have succeeded in brainwashing me."

"I'm pleased you give me so much credit," L said dryly. "Personally, I believe Light-kun can't be convinced of anything without careful application of high voltages. Please sit," he added, when Light would have stood and made a run for it.

Light weighed his chances and sat back down, carefully rearranging himself to be able to move more easily from sitting to fleeing. He glanced at Ryuk out of the corner of his eye. _Little help?_

"If you run, I can put things in his way to trip him up…?" Ryuk suggested optimistically.

He should know by now not to rely on Ryuk for anything. "So," he said, giving L his full attention.

L smiled pleasantly. Light shivered. It was L's 'I have a card up my sleeve to which you have no counter' look. "Light-kun is very intelligent," he murmured, eyes lingering in a way that made Light feel vaguely dirty.

He had a terrible, terrible feeling. "And…?"

"It has become increasingly clear to a great many people that Light-kun's needs are not being adequately met by the typical schooling system available to him."

"And…?"

"It is very fortunate for Light-kun that I have a solution."

"Oh god."

L's smile became savage. "Is there is some reason Light-kun should object to receiving an education more befitting his intelligence?"

"I'm perfectly happy where I am, thanks, and my parents--"

"Are curiously eager to be rid of you Light-kun. I don't mean to damage your self-esteem," he added innocently, in case Light was traumatised by this blunt assessment of his familial relations, "only state a fact. It is often very difficult for parents to cope with children such as yourself." He was distracted momentarily by the need to tug resentfully at his suit as Light struggled to contain his horror at the coming revelation and ran frantically through every rebuttal he could think of.

"They do, however, wish the best for their only son, and are most anxious you receive an education more appropriate to your ability, something that sadly cannot be provided here and even if possible would be well beyond their financial capacity. Fortunately," he grinned, and Light remembered handcuffs, being woken at odd hours of the morning by L crawling over him for pen and paper that he stubbornly refused to keep on his side of the bed, promises to see Kira to justice, and strawberries, "I can provide this. At no cost to your parents."

If L meant to distract him, it worked. "You… bought me? You _bought_ me?!"

L tilted his head curiously and thought about it. "If you want to be vulgar – yes. Yes, I did."

"That's slavery!"

"I prefer to think of it as a scholarship program. It's a very good education," L shrugged.

"What the hell are you going to teach me?" Light said incredulously, looking around frantically. _Come on, Ryuk, just this once hit someone over the head for me._

"There isn't anything heavy enough around," Ryuk said, scratching uncomfortably at the stitches around his neck.

Light's gaze settled on the TV. _That looks heavy enough._

"I can't do that, Light!" Ryuk protested. "How else am I gonna watch the wrestling?"

_Then I'll do it myself._

Sadly, L would still be able to have children. On the other hand, Light _had_ managed to kick his shin, which was enough to make good a partial escape. He headed for the front door before realising L would probably have Watari waiting outside.

"Bedroom," Ryuk suggested, and Light changed direction mid-step and hoped he could climb down the tree outside his window before L or Watari realised.

"Look the door!" he hissed as he slammed it shut and headed to the window, hoping desperately he could evade L long enough to warn Takeshi to implement Plan Theta. For once, Ryuk did as he asked.

He unlocked and opened the window to its full extent before he even looked up, and then regretted it immensely. "Oh," he managed, blinking, before Watari shot him.

* * *

Ryuk looked at Light's body for a long, startled moment. "Come on, Light, this is no time for lying down," he said, leaning down and poking him. "Hey," he said, when Light didn't even groan. He was pretty sure he wasn't dead – like L would ever kill Light without thoroughly humiliating him first – but he didn't quite understand why Light would lie on the floor like he was when there was escaping to do.

He took a closer look. Light didn't normally have a dart sticking out of his chest. Well, that might explain it.

He floated back to watch as Watari crawled inside with considerable difficulty – poor old man, L took years off his life with these stunts – and walked past Light's senseless body to unlock the door.

Ryuk tugged at his earring as he thought. He was supposed to follow Light, and if he didn't watch where L and Watari took him, he wouldn't be able to find Light again. Or to be precise, he wouldn't be able to find Light again without difficulty easily spared by just following them. On the other hand, Light would be _so_ pissed if Ryuk didn't tell the Mikami-Watari hybrid that Light's position was compromised. Ryuk had long since learned the wisdom of keeping Light sweet.

What was that word humans used when they were in a bad situation?

…Crap.

* * *

Light woke up somewhere over China, opening his eyes to find L's face inches away.

Still groggy on tranquillisers, more aware of the restraints on his left wrist where he was used to being cuffed, he thought he was once more handcuffed to L. He did what he'd done the first time he'd woken up in the night to find L invading his personal space in a way only Misa rivalled. He screamed.

L did what he'd wanted to do that first night but hadn't – he slapped a hand over Light's mouth. When Light started to see black spots across his vision, he let go.

"Is Light-kun going to behave now?"

Light took several deep breaths – not to calm himself down but to give him the air he needed to yell properly. "You _kidnapped_ me! Take me home _right now_, you paedophiliac son of a bitch!"

"Don't insult my mother, Light-kun."

"Hah! I see you don't bother denying you're a paedophile," he said accusingly, glaring at him.

"If it helps keep you in line, I'm all for it."

Light's response was genuinely horrified, remembering as he did L's 'Do _Anything_ To Win' ways. "You're _sick!_" he protested, pulling as far away as the restraints would let him. "Sick, sick, sick!"

"Thank you," L said gravely, "But I must argue that Light-kun's own considerable charms are a major factor."

"…I'm gonna scream."

"Go ahead. This is a private jet, and I have tranquillisers."

Light didn't scream, but it was a close thing. In his aching head he counted to ten in every language he knew. When he was at seven in Turkish, L spoke again. "There are several things I should explain to you before we arrive," he said, looking up from his book.

"Arrive _where_?"

"That's a secret," L said, "that I might tell Light-kun if he's very good."

Still operating on the fear of L's pragmatic methods, Light shuddered at the thought of what being very good might entail. L's smile at his reaction was something like Ryuk's when Light gave him an apple without being asked, savage and triumphant.

"First things first. My name is not Ryuzaki."

"No, duh," Light snapped before he could stop himself. "I already knew that."

"My name is L."

"… L." Light said. L nodded encouragingly. "L." Light repeated. "L."

"Yes." L waited patiently.

"As in… detective?"

"Yes."

"Detective my father sometimes works for?"

"Yes."

"Okay. You're violating my human rights and breaking the law and you expect me to believe you're a detective."

"Not _a_ detective," L chided. "_The_ detective."

"I don't care if you're Buddha, you can't just abduct me!"

"I think you'll find, Light-kun, that I already have."

Light's hands clenched automatically into fists, before he remembered he was restrained. He should have tricked Ryuk into killing him – Ryuk. Where the hell was Ryuk?!

He looked around as much as he could, floor, ceiling, every area of the plane he could see without breaking his neck. No Ryuk. No Ryuk. No goddamn Ryuk. Ryuk annoyed the hell out of him, but Light found that when he was gone he couldn't breathe properly, his heart sped out of rhythm like the beating of Ryuk's wings and the constant crunching of his apples kept it in pace, and he felt exposed and helpless – which, if he thought about it, made absolutely no sense since Ryuk was someone with the power to kill him –

"Breathe, Light-kun."

What a stupid instruction! He choked back the desire to call for Ryuk in case he was floating somewhere else in the plane and just wasn't aware Light was awake.

"That's it. Steady and slow."

Light glared up at him. "Sh-shut _up_," he gasped, humiliated beyond belief that L should witness him – _him_ – have a panic attack, and furious that he'd let himself be so affected by Ryuk's absence in the first place. Blasted shinigami.

L sat back and watched in silence as Light recovered himself. "Does that happen often?" he asked curiously.

"_No_," Light hissed. "Only when I'm kidnapped by weird men and tied up while I'm taken away from everyone and everything I know."

"Hmm." L said. "Second, I suppose I should confess that although you will be educated, it will not be in the manner that my intermediary assured your parents it would be."

Light glared in silence.

"I am looking for someone to be my heir. To be L after I die."

"Lucky person," Light said, teeth clenched. "I'm not going to like what you say next, am I?"

"When have you ever liked anything I've said?" L sighed rhetorically. "I think Light-kun has very good chance of becoming my successor."

"I don't _want_ to be your successor!"

"Why not?" L said coolly, and Light realised if he just said he was Kira he'd get rid of one problem and drown under countless others. He bit his lip.

When he said nothing, L nodded as if he expected it and smiled a little grimly. "One of the first things that happens when we reach the orphanage is that the children choose a new name. All papers pertaining to their previous identity are destroyed."

Light thought of several things to say. _This just gets worse and worse._ No. _You're trying to break my sense of self!_ No. _You're making sure my parents can't find me! _No.

"I want to be Batman."

"…" L stared at him. Light thought he looked a little self-righteous for someone who'd once used strawberries as a bribe. "If you don't take this seriously, I'll pick for you. I'm sure you don't want that."

"How'm I supposed to take this seriously? You're asking me to make up a name to protect my secret identity!"

"Lucifer it is," L said, and went back to reading.

Light wondered if he was supposed to know that was an insult.

* * *

L kept a tight hold on Light's hand; clearly he was afraid Light would try to run. As if. He had much more sense than that. He'd run when there was a chance of getting away with it.

He stared at the orphanage he'd routinely sent L's gifts to, and felt his hand tighten convulsively in L's. "Are you afraid?" L said, sounding amused. The bastard.

"I'm alone in a foreign country, with someone who considers himself above the law-- yes." He said through gritted teeth, and willed himself to put some effort into it. L smiled, faint but there, his eyes announcing quite clearly that he thought Light was lying. Light shut up and walked, and dragged his feet only slightly.

There was a long moment of utter stillness as the waiting children in the foyer absorbed the fact that L was back, with a little Japanese kid clinging to his hand. The moment passed when Mello ran up and kicked Light in the shin.

Light jerked forward before he could think it through, determined to grab Mello by his pretty hair and smash his head into the floor. With L still holding his hand, however, he couldn't do anything but scowl as Mello darted away and stuck his tongue out at him.

"That was not an acceptable greeting, Mello," L scolded, pulling Light back from his aborted attempt at homicide to stand with affronted dignity at his side. He looked at Light. "That was Mello, and the three others are Matt, Near and B," he said in helpful Japanese. Light wondered when to let him in on the fact that he was fluent in English. "You four, this is Lucifer, your new competition."

There was silence. Light cursed L's introduction skills. He hated everyone in the room, very aware of his own helplessness. Then he thought about the introduction and blinked at the one person he didn't recognise. So _that_ was what B had looked like before he set fire to himself. Light was actually more repulsed by the bizarre attempt at imitating of L than he was by the hideous piece of charred flesh B had been when he killed him. It might have been because he'd been unable to associate 'human' with 'Beyond Birthday' before, and now he not only had to think of him as 'human' he also had to think of him as 'crazy obsessed L stalker –who _would_ kill for the heck of it'.

There was nothing else to do. Dignity could hang for the moment; Light turned, flung his arms tight around L's waist – that being the highest he could reach – and clung for dear life. "You're not leaving me with these psychopaths!"

"Psychopaths? If that's the case, I'm sure you'll fit right in."

"Seriously! That guy is a serial killer in the making –" he pointed at B, "Barbie over there is going to join the Mafia, Goggles is going to follow him, and I can't think of any words bad enough to describe the Cottonball! I swear, you leave me alone here I'm going to kill them all by the end of the week!"

"Now who's a psychopath?" L said, lips twitching.

"It'll be self-defence! Your stalker looks like he wants to skin me, cut off my head and use it for a bowling ball!"

"You're overreacting," L said, and tried to pry Light off with little success. For the first time ever, Light was grateful that L was so thin his hips stuck out like the protrusions on a rock-climbing wall. "If you don't let go," L warned, "I'm going to take it as an invitation."

"I don't care," Light hissed, glaring as more gawking children began to gather to discover the source of all the noise. All things considered, he thought he could deal with sexual advances from L much better than murderous ones from his heirs. You didn't sleep beside someone for over three months without a few embarrassing incidents.

With strength that Light had forgotten L's frame was capable of, L leant down and lifted him. Light panicked momentarily and instead of kicking out and backing away as L probably hoped he would, he reached out and wrapped every limb he could around the nearest solid object, that being L's body. L's hair, he realised with some surprise, smelled exactly the same as it had fifteen years ago and six years in the future.

L looked down at him, startled. "You really do want me to try, don't you?"

Light did what he'd never done before. He went red, blushing furiously at the humiliation. He still didn't let go.

"You're making things much more difficult than they need to be," L sighed, arms falling back to his sides in a refusal to support Light in his limpet impression.

"I'm making things difficult?" Light snarled into where he imagined L's ear to be under all the hair, "You're the one who wouldn't take no for an answer!"

"Lucifer-kun is much better served here than in his old school."

"This is an orphanage! You're _supposed_ to take advantage of vulnerable orphaned children here, not kids who still have a family!"

"Orphanhood could easily be arranged," L said as he managed to take small, heavy steps through the gaping crowd.

Light was too busy using his arms to hold on to L's neck to hit him, so he pressed his face into L's shoulder and wondered if he should bite him. As if sensing the intent, L grabbed his hair, forced his head back uncomfortably so Light could see his face and told him very firmly that he could play the terrified child all he liked, if he bit him nothing was going to save him from being abandoned to the tender mercies of his new companions. When he let go, Light dropped his head against L's shoulder with a thump and swore vengeance.

* * *

Ryuk really hoped Light thought it was worth apples that he'd gutted his computer while Watari and L were busy dragging his doped body away.

He also hoped Light appreciated the note he'd given the Mikami-Watari. Light had expected to implement his final failsafe on his own terms and with his typical micromanaging, but circumstances as they were, Ryuk rather thought he ought to be grateful for anything.

Plan Theta was something Light had devised to ensure that when it was no longer viable to act as Kira, he'd never feel the temptation to go back. Basically, it consisted of wiping himself out.

All over the world, every single one of Light's operatives was getting the same message, being told that the mind behind their every move was gone and they were cut loose. Every trace of Kira's presence in their lives, from computer systems to hardware to phone numbers, was erased.

Kira was, the message went, dead.

Now Ryuk just had to find Light before anything bad happened.

* * *

Light was used to taking whatever time he could to sleep, knowing that his body's needs outweighed his desire to be aware at all times of the potential threats present. So he slept. That was his first mistake.

His second was that he trusted the door to remain locked until he picked it.

He woke up to a hunched, messy-haired figure that could very easily have been L leaning over him, kitchen knife in its hand. The adrenaline that flooded him said that it wasn't. He bit the hand covering his mouth, thrashed about like an eel trying to loosen his grip and knocked the knife away. He also tried to break B's collarbone by jumping on him, but missed and had to content himself with a cracked rib or two instead.

Then he ran down the hallways, yelling, hoping desperately that L's room was on his side of the building. "L! L, you negligent jerk, your psycho stalker is trying to kill me! L!"

B was very fast and seemingly impervious to the pain, because Light hadn't got very far when he hit the ground, B's hand around his throat. "My," Light choked out, unable to stop himself, "what a big knife you have, grandma,"

B grinned. It looked better on him than it would have on L's hunched figure, which meant it was probably one of his own expressions. Light wondered if all murderers had their own version of the demonic smirk.

"B, we do not try to kill the new arrivals."

"Hiii," Light croaked from his place on the floor. L gave him a disappointed look, like it was Light's fault his heir was a total nutjob.

"I was only trying to scare him," B said innocently, which would have been more convincing if he wasn't still holding the kitchen knife in his hand.

"Job done," L said, and held out his hand. "Now give me the knife, B."

B looked at it for a moment, and then at Light, as if weighing his chances, and then handed it over. Light crawled to L and told himself he wasn't hiding behind him, no, not at all.

"I think he's taken two years off my life," he muttered to the back of L's legs.

B peered round L to get a good look at Light's face. "Afraid not," he said, sounding vaguely disappointed.

L grabbed Light and hauled him to his feet. Light stumbled a little as L dragged him away, crashing from his adrenaline high and unable to make sense of what was being said. He hoped it wasn't important. He glanced behind him and recognised the expression on B's face with the sinking heart of someone who was also a practised murderer without a weapon to hand.

That was his first night at Wammy's House.

* * *

On his third day, Light ran away. He was halfway to London and arguing with the first ticket collector he'd seen all day when L grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him into a hug. Light froze, brain shorting out. L took instant advantage, scolding him roundly for worrying his family like he had, where did he think he was going, what was the big idea, did he want to give their mother a heart attack?

Light struggled free with effort and begged the still annoyed ticket collector not to send him away with this stranger who'd kidnapped him. Needless to say, it didn't work and he got a long lecture about the importance of not running off at a train station.

When they got back, L brought out the handcuffs.

* * *

"I hate you."

"Lucifer-kun brought this upon himself."

"My name is _Light_, you identity-stealing personality-breaking bastard."

"I don't mean to break either your personality or your sense of identity, Lucifer-kun."

"The hell you don't!"

"I'll admit, I'd prefer it if you were a little more tractable, but eventually you will learn to moderate yourself."

"Oh, I get it! Tractable just means never disagreeing with you!"

"No, it means recognising when I'm right."

"Like everybody else? Everyone is the place is absolutely batshit! What are you doing to these kids?!"

"They are being trained to take the L name, Lucifer-kun."

"So let me get this straight. You find disadvantaged vulnerable children with no one to care for them, notice they've disappeared, or complain about their treatment, and you take away their names and sense of self other than 'potential backups' and then pit them against each other to try and find out which one – if any – will match up to the world's greatest detective?"

"That's about it, yes."

"…I'll bet half of them commit suicide and the other half is set loose with no sense of morals whatsoever."

"The rate of attrition _is_ quite high."

"… I think I'm more frightened now than I was when I thought you were going to rape me."

"I think I'm insulted."

"You're still scary, Stalker-san."

"Thank you, Lucifer-kun. It warms my heart to know you still cower in fear of me at night."

"Of course I do, you're, what, all of two feet away from me? You could just reach out and – and – do anything."

"Don't give me ideas."

"…"

"The chain doesn't stretch that far, Lucifer-kun."

* * *

Ryuk looked around. The realm really hadn't improved in the twelve years he'd been gone. He floated over to the nearest gambling grounds with some reluctance. At least _one_ of them had to be following Light and could tell him what had happened while he wasn't watching.

"Anyone know where Yagami Light is?" he asked hopefully.

The reply was instant and unanimous, coming from every shinigami within hearing range: "England!"

"Where have you _been_?" Zellogi asked, not raising his eyes from the viewing pool. "L got him."

"I gots me two notes," a young shinigami chimed in proudly.

Ryuk was ever so slightly unsettled. He hadn't realised the Kira-watching craze had gotten quite so big. "Uh."

Gukku looked up, distracted enough by the newcomer's apparent ignorance to tear his attention away from where Kira was trying to pick the handcuff lock while L slept. "Ryuk!"

It was like a – what did Light call it? – like a Mexican Wave. Heads flew up following Gukku's announcement, sending ripples throughout the gathered shinigami, and Ryuk found himself facing a hoard of crazily intent eyes. "Hi," he said, blinking.

If they were good at the wave thing, they weren't anywhere near as good at staggering their questions, which flooded thick and fast and at pretty much exactly the same moment.

Ryuk sat down and resigned himself to answering questions. Light was smart; he could take care of himself for a while.

* * *

Light decided that if there was one upside – and only one, mind you – to being chained to L _yet again_, it was that he could reasonably trust that B wouldn't try to gut him again. Light had no intention of dying before he even reached his twenty-fourth birthday. Again.

He tried to ignore L's intent gaze on his face as he hunched over his paper and wrote an essay on how to identify how long a body has been a _dead_ body. His original essay had been ten words long – depends on how long it's been since I killed it.

"Did you know that Kira was dead?" L said idly.

Light tried his hardest not to tense. "Why the hell would I? Hello, child abductee?" He owed Ryuk twenty-five apples and a dare.

"It's a very funny thing," L said, which meant it wasn't a funny thing at all, "but the message started travelling about an hour after we left your home."

Fast work. He owed Ryuk fifty apples and a dare.

"This bothers me, why?" Light said, sketching L on the corner of his paper, choking to death on a profiterole. "I'm still alive."

"Yes, you are," L said, and touched his wrist carefully where a ring of scarred flesh ought to be. "And yet—" he shrugged when Light pushed him away. "It is curious isn't it, that the moment you leave--"

"Get kidnapped," Light corrected firmly.

"—the message goes out that Kira is no more."

"Have you ever heard of this funny thing, it's called coincidence?"

"We've met on occasion. She was usually in disguise."

Light snorted.

"Ah well," L said after a while, with considerable nonchalance. Light flinched ever so slightly. "I suppose it doesn't matter if you were Kira or not. You're mine now anyway."

Light stared at him, wishing he had enough disregard for him to scream with frustration.

* * *

Day fifteen. Light had been kicked by Mello six times and returned the favour by concussing him twice, started a video game war with Matt which had spread to every single member of Wammy's House that owned any type of gaming platform, attempted to poison Near three times (no success), and was beginning to see eyes everywhere thanks to B's habit of staring at him until his eyes watered.

Night sixteen, Ryuk finally turned up, slid a claw through the metal of the cuff and broke the mechanism. Light slipped after him as silently as a child who'd learned pickpoketing from a shinigami can, and took special care to take the keys and lock L in. His gratitude for L's poor sleeping habits – which meant that when L _did_ sleep, he might as well be in a coma – was immeasurable.

"Where the hell have you been," he hissed as they walked to the kitchen, hoping the night, the baseball cap Ryuk had found in someone's closet and the belief that Light was still chained to L would prevent him from being given more than a customary glance from anybody passing.

"Shinigami realm," Ryuk said. His wings were beating at a slower rate than usual, as if he were tired. "'_Thank you_, Ryuk, for telling the Mikami-Watari about the trouble I was in. _Thank you_ Ryuk, for making sure L didn't get the insides of my computer and the certain knowledge that I'm Kira. _Thank you_ Ryuk, for answering the entire shinigami realm's questions about everything that's happened in the human world since humans started farming. _Thank you_ Ryuk, for looking for me without rest for ten days—'"

"You're a shinigami, you don't need to rest."

Ryuk tried to hit his head against a wall, only to slide through it. Light gave him the apple pie he found at the back of the fridge, and actually waited patiently for him to eat it before sending him off to find hair dye. Ryuk came back with shoe polish.

Light got a different hat and covered his hair instead.

He locked the doors methodically on his way out, and then gave the keys to Ryuk, who liked their shine and added them to his belt.

* * *

In London, Light took shelter with an old colonel who liked to pat his head and call him sonny. When he left a day later, he almost called Takeshi and told him the UK Kira needed a new Watari before remembering there wasn't a network any more.

He called 999 instead, and told them about Colonel Thistlethwaite's heart attack.

* * *

He was in Germany and enjoying some rather good apfelstrudel (to be precise, he was enjoying the strudel and Ryuk was enjoying the apfel) when L found him again. Light took one good look at his face and put his hands in the air.

* * *

"Does Light-kun _really_ think there is anywhere he can go where I will not find him?"

Light was tempted to say 'yes', just to see what L would respond with. He stared at his toes instead. He wondered if L thought he wouldn't try to escape naked. He mumbled something about how L was doing a stellar impression of an obsessed pervert.

L grabbed his head and forced him to look up. "Answer me," he said sternly.

"No," Light winced, and tried not to think of a place that would probably be best described as a bunker, and of Takeshi waiting patiently a time zone away at Berlin-Schönefeld Airport.

"Then why do you persist?" L said, clearly exasperated.

"Why did slaves keep trying to run away, even knowing what they were in for if they failed?"

L sighed heavily. Light sighed not-so heavily. "I am very sorry Light-kun has made this necessary," L said.

Light's heart sank to his freezing little feet.

* * *

Twenty-five days after Light first disappeared, a nondescript man in his late thirties broke into Wammy's House and left with one boy, a suitcase of clothes and every apple in the kitchen. He left behind several computer viruses and a small fire rapidly gaining strength in the west half of the building.

L liked the card saying 'Kira's compliments on the stay' very much. He especially liked the postscript on the back, written in perfect, carefully printed English – 'Now that you know for sure, STOP STALKING ME.'

He liked it enough to generously give them five days head start.

After all, Light-kun had a great deal of free time on his hands now. It would be positively criminal to waste it.


	4. Dare

Dare

(Light owes Ryuk a dare. He knew he'd regret it, but not _this_ much.)

"Hm," Ryuk said.

Light swallowed back the fear that was beginning to well up in his throat. "Hm?" he said as indifferently as he could. "Can't think of anything?"

Ryuk looked over at him and chuckled as if he knew what he was trying to do. He probably did. It had been a long time. "Nah, the problem is I've got _loads_ of ideas," he declared happily, sharp teeth gleaming in the midday sun.

Light told himself to breathe slowly, force the fight-or-flight reflex back down, and do nothing to show just how terrified those words made him. "I'm delighted for you," he said offhandedly.

Ryuk's smile said he knew exactly what Light was feeling and he was going to make the most of it for as long as possible. "What were those things you told me about that are socially inappropriate?" he mused.

Light always knew Ryuk was going to somehow force him to regret teaching the shinigami anything about human society. "Such as?" he said warily.

"What was the term you used for running around naked in front of large gatherings of humans?"

"Streaking, I believe," Light said with as much nonchalance as he could manage, fingers digging uncomfortably into his knees.

"Mm." Ryuk said, watching him avidly, drinking in every little twitch and tic that belied Light's calm appearance. "So I could dare you to streak somewhere filled with lots and lots of people. Shinjuku at rush hour sound good?"

"Hnn." Light managed, trying to distract himself with the far more interesting problem of whether or not his knees were going to be permanently disfigured with half-moon scars. "Maybe not. At rush hour there'd be too many people for me to move, never mind streak."

This was not the way he'd ever wanted to learn that Ryuk knew how to use him as well as he knew how to use Ryuk. If he tried to say there was no way he was doing anything, Ryuk was going to kill any number of people obscurely connected to Kira, and Light would have L onto him faster than he could say 'I didn't kill anyone' in any language.

Really, such a calculated mask of stupidity, he should have known something of himself had rubbed off on the shinigami. How typical of Ryuk to finally reveal such guile for the sake of a prank.

"Or…" Ryuk drew the word out happily, "how about declaring yourself king of the apple trees in Sensoji Temple?"

"I _knew _it." Light said bitterly, abandoning his pretence of unconcern. "I _knew _I was going to regret teaching you anything…"

Ryuk rubbed his hands together delightedly, clearly enraptured with Light's discomfort. Light swore that Ryuk was going to regret this for the rest of his miserable existence. "I could have you confess your love for L at the next Interpol meeting."

Light sat bolt upright, appalled beyond the scope of words. "No! Just no!"

"Hang on," Ryuk said smugly, "I've haven't decided yet."

"There's _worse?!_" Light demanded, unable to stop himself, even knowing that his very obvious horror was putting a shiny great star next to the idea.

"Told you I had a lot of ideas."

"No no no no no," Light muttered, cradling his head in his hands.

"You ought to be _proud_," Ryuk said with mock-hurt. "It just shows how much attention I've paid to you and your nastier little games."

"What did I do to deserve – oh…"

"I've always wanted to see what would happen if you insulted a sumo wrestler…"

"I haven't," Light snarled, the effect somewhat spoiled by the fact that he refused to raise his head and face the horror that was Ryuk contemplating a dare.

"I've got it!" Ryuk declared triumphantly. "Something with miniskirts!"

There was no response from Light. Ryuk imagined his immense brain stuttering to a halt, buzzing dismally the way the computer did when Ryuk was left alone with it (which he never was any more). Sorrowfully, he abandoned the idea. It wasn't worth the apples. He went back to seeing what would provoke the funniest response.

"Okay, no miniskirts. Hmmmm. What's the most ridiculous dance there is?" Ryuk wondered. Light's head sank just a little lower into his hands. "That macaroni one? The robot?"

There may or may not have been a sound resembling a whimper from Light. There was certainly an unholy cackle of joy from Ryuk.

* * *

"I hate you," Light hissed through his teeth. "I really, really hate you."

"This is for all those lovely apples at the markets that you wouldn't buy for me," Ryuk said firmly. "And for every time you've been too busy to play games with me. And every time you've tricked me into helping you without any compensation whatsoever. And that one time when you went and _deliberately_ got yourself kidnapped – did I mention deliberately? – and asked for help – but not really because you don't do 'asking' well – and then _complained_ when I killed a guy, I mean, come on! I'm a _death god_, it's kinda what I do, what the hell did you ask for if you didn't want me to kill him?! And--"

"Ryuk, I get it! Shut the hell up and let me get this over with!"

"Oh. Sorr-- Wait. Why am I apologising to you?"

"Because you're an idiot." Light snapped, and tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, as if being a little neater would in some way insulate him from feeling the humiliation of what he was about to do. He took a deep breath, staring at the screen, his eye into the inner workings of Interpol. Somewhere among all those officers and officials was his father, a thought that normally made him snicker and now made him feel nervous and humiliated in advance.

"Hurry hurry hurry, Light," Ryuk mocked. "If you don't do it now, there's always the forfeit of telling L in person."

"You _bastard_." Light said, hands clenching so tightly Ryuk entertained thoughts for a moment of his fingers being permanently damaged. "Why couldn't you ask me to dance the Macarena?"

"This is better," Ryuk said loftily.

"Why couldn't you ask me to dance the Macarena naked in Shinjuku station at rush hour?"

"This is still better."

"Only a shinigami would think so," Light said desperately, a trick so transparent even Ryuk could only stick his tongue out in response. "Damn it Ryuk!"

"Nyahahaha!" Ryuk said. "Better get it over with, hadn't you?"

"Never," Light said under his breath as he returned his attention to the screen, waiting for a (hopefully missing) opportune moment. "I am never going to play cards with you again."

The opportune moment came. In fact, it stood up and smacked him in the mouth. Or that was it felt like – as if fortune was laughing at him, having decided he'd had far too much of its favour in his previous life. "I believe that concludes the meeting," 'USA' was saying with barely hidden eagerness. "Unless you have anything else to add, Kira?"

"Now," Ryuk said, not bothered with trying to hide his eagerness.

Light almost wept at the stray thought that if all was right with the world and Near hadn't cheated (because he almost certainly had, it was the only possible way he could have succeeded), he'd be God already and blissfully unaware of Ryuk's devious filthy mind and ability to cheat with cards. "Yes," he said, and if his voice was unsteady only Ryuk knew it, Interpol receiving it via mouthpieces and electronic software. "One last thing."

There was a pause while he contemplated the merits of forfeiting and decided that there weren't any. "I would like," he lied, "L to be aware of my –" he struggled with the desire to write his own name rather than continue. Ryuk drummed his fingers ominously against the desk. He forced himself to continue, spitting the words out as fast as he could. "My – undyingloveforhim."

There just weren't words bad enough to describe what he wanted to do to Ryuk for making him do this.

"It's best to be honest about these things," Ryuk said approvingly from the corner he'd prudently backed away to, applauding heartily.

There was a complete lack of anything resembling a confused/incredulous/horrified reaction from Interpol. "'Bout damn time one of you stopped dancing about," 'USA' sniffed, having no patience for indecisiveness. Similar sentiments made themselves felt at every section of the room.

Light hit his head against the desk. Hard.

That was nothing compared to his reaction when Watari stood up, presented the laptop with L's inscrutable letter upon it and L's masked voice declared formally that he was 'honoured by Kira-san's high regard.'

The scream of rage and horror almost, Ryuk felt, _almost_ matched in quality and humour the entirety of the Yellow Box Warehouse Incident.

* * *

It was good that Ryuk had something to laugh over, because even a week later Light stubbornly refused to see the funny side.

"I'm not talking to you." Light said, the epitome of a sulky twelve year old.

"Well that's a little presumptuous," Ryuk pointed out, sounding almost hurt. "I mean, the minute you get paranoid you're really going to regret saying that."

Light ignored him, outwardly engrossed in his homework – something that simply wasn't possible, not even when it was college-level and brand new to him.

"Aww come on, lighten up!"

Light shuffled through his schoolbooks, found a hardcover and threw it at him.

"It's not like it was any big secret!"

Light pointed at the rotting apples he'd brought with him out of habit, and then made a simple, eloquent gesture that indicated what Ryuk could do with them.

"What?! It wasn't! Are you trying to tell me you feel absolutely _nothing_ for L? Nothing at all?"

Light made a series of expansive and violent motions that he hoped conveyed just what he thought of Ryuk's incredulous question. Then he went back to detailing what he did in the summer break.

"There's no need to be like that Light," Ryuk said soothingly. "We all know there's no one else for you."

Light twitched, fingers tightening about his pen to the point where they ached. The urge to ask if Ryuk had developed a multiple personality disorder was almost unbearable. He drew in several calming breaths, gathered up his books and simply sat for a moment, enjoying the sunshine and pretending that like anyone who might pass his deserted spot, he was oblivious the shinigami checking off the reasons it was so obvious he and L had a 'special' relationship.

"You think about him _all the time_ – when you were dating, it was always L, L, L, how this will throw him off, or confuse that line of enquiry, blah blah. You're both control freaks, neither of you can stand being at a disadvantage. You're both willing to make sacrifices of people, and toy with lives…"

"I must say, Kira-kun, I was very surprised at your little declaration last week."

Light somehow managed to choke on air. He wished that the ground would gain enough sentience to recognise his discomfort and swallow him. He was once the owner of notebook that killed people; surely it wasn't too much to ask for? He looked up.

L smiled, a rare and unsettling expression – especially in broad daylight, where Light just couldn't convince himself it was all the work of bad lighting and shadows. There was something inexplicably confident in his bearing, obvious despite his hunched shoulders and hands shoved deep in his pockets. It wasn't the normal understated confidence either, the like-I-give-a-damn sort he allowed himself to show among people who had no idea just what a powerful person he was. "Although," he mused, refusing to look away from Light's wide-eyed stare of horror and give him the chance to compose himself, "I'm afraid even I must think better of doing anything with you at such a _tender_ age."

Light made a noise resembling 'ack' followed by 'gahwhatthefuck?!'

Ryuk made a noise resembling a hyena on laughing gas.

"Still," L said, leaning down and invading Light's personal space further – as if he could get any more unsettled, although he wasn't surprised in the slightest that L would try. "Six years isn't _that_ long, Kira-kun."

Light recovered enough of his speech faculties to yell "DON'T CALL ME KIRA-KUN!"

"Oh?" L said, removing one hand from his pocket to pat Light's hair. "Alright then, Kira-hime, if you insist."

"……" Light stared. Far too close to his face for comfort, L _grinned_. "Light-kun is fine," he said weakly.

"We're using our real names?" L said, with almost believable surprise. "Hm. Well, they always say a good relationship is founded on honesty, but really, _Light-kun_, in our profession you should know better."

"I _meant_ that my name is not Kira, you sick freak and I want to run away now, so could you get out of my way?"

"Ah, Kira-kun, there's no need to be like that," L pouted, and Light yelped – literally – as he flung his arms around him in a hug Light couldn't quite believe was unplanned. "There's no need to pretend you don't care any more."

"HELP!" Light screamed, beating his fists ineffectually against L's back. To be eighteen again – oh wait. Ryuk wouldn't have dared him to do this if he was eighteen, finding it far funnier for Light to declare undying love when he was too young to do any of the acts – involving what Ryuk called 'squishy parts' – typical to an adult relationship.

"Best. Day. Ever. Ever ever _ever_." Ryuk said from somewhere beyond L's shoulder, which was all Light could see. "I'll take all the apple bans you can dish out, Light – this is so worth it."

Light ignored him in favour of the more pressing business of struggling harder against L's tightening arms. "HEEELLLPP!" he screamed again, pretending he couldn't hear L's _almost_ inaudible huffs of laughter against his ear. If only Light had a pen… he'd stab the bastard in the eyes.

"If you were merely to hold still, this would be over with by now," he pointed out serenely, as if Light's dedicated struggles for freedom were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. Which they were, Light was forced to concede after a moment. He stilled. He could_ feel_ L's smirk. "There now," he said, pulling back. "Was that so bad?"

"You're still touching me," Light pointed out in a tight voice, doing a good impression of a statue.

"I wouldn't want you to run when we're just getting a grip on the situation," L said mildly, hands tightening their grip momentarily on his shoulders, a wordless warning.

"You know this violates the terms of our agreement, Stalker-san."

"I've never been very good at following rules…" L mused.

Light made a face at him. _No shit._ "Stalker-san, we agreed that if I met you willingly in public places of _your_ choosing you'd stop following me like a lost puppy and accusing me of being some super-detective."

"Point for indicating a belief in Kira being anything other than an upstart."

Light tugged at his perfect hair with a frustrated snarl. Ryuk perked up at the thought that such screaming losses of composure were usually followed by some Grade A maniacal laughter. "Ryuzaki-san," he drew the false name out in a way that implied it was synonymous with any number of hideous things. "If you don't let go right now I'm going to kick you so hard your grandchildren are going to be genetically modified." He paused. "I mean, if you were at all interested in girls."

"Point for knowing the term 'genetically modified'," L mocked. "And I'll just have to make sure you don't kick, won't I?" He lunged again, and somehow, no matter how much Light squirmed, kicked, clawed and even, desperately, pulled his hair, L just would not allow him an avenue of escape.

He revised his theory of L being some type of sugar-powered robot.

"This is going to be one of my favourite memories, I just know it," Ryuk said, sounding almost tearful with happiness. "Centuries from now I'm going to look back on this and _still_ get a good laugh."

Light was not the selfless type. He found absolutely no consolation in the thought 'Well, at least _someone's_ happy.' On the contrary, the thought that _someone_ found joy in his humiliation made him furious. "I'm going to kill you," he informed L solemnly, going limp. Typically, L dropped him the moment he was no longer prepared for hitting the ground.

"I'm really going to kill you," he said, staring blankly up at him. "It's going to be terribly slow and agonising."

L looked completely unconcerned. "Do I get a kiss first?"

Light already knew the futility of screaming. He thought about closing his eyes before realising that meant he wouldn't be able to see what L was doing. "With amputations," he added.

* * *

"I think maybe he's getting you back for the whole 'pervert-san' business. Or he just likes watching you spaz out and knows exactly what to do to get you to do it."

"I am not _spazzing_."

"You are. And I thought you weren't talking to me?"

"Circumstances have changed. There's no way I could stop myself from yelling at you right now."

"Aw, I missed you talking to me too. Spaz."

"Aaagghh!"

"I always thought there was something fishy about using _handcuffs_ to monitor you…"

"That's it! No more apples for you! Ever!"

* * *

Watari knew something was wrong the moment L returned from his walk, grinning. To be fair, L hadn't stopped grinning since Kira's bizarre declaration at Interpol. Perhaps 'grinning' wasn't the right word. It didn't have the same cruel amusement implicit in it the same way, say, 'smirking' did.

"Did you enjoy your walk?" he said warily, watching as L collapsed into a chair and began to snicker.

To think he had once been mildly concerned by L's lacking emotional development. If L being completely socially deficient meant he'd never be forced to listen to him laughing again as he was now, a hideous noise that was faintly hysterical and completely terrifying – well, Near _was_ looking like the best candidate…

"I met Light-kun," he explained after a long moment, shoulders still shaking a little with suppressed laughter.

It said much that this perfectly explained L's hysteria. Watari immediately started planning for L's arrest, excuses for his behaviour for Chief Yagami (probably involving documentation from several highly regarded doctors in the field of psychiatry), and the possibility that they would be forced to finance the boy's therapy.

"I don't suppose you'll ever accept that you may have just traumatised a completely innocent twelve year old."

L stared at him, the words 'does not compute' flashing momentarily over his face. "Weren't you the one who tried to argue for Light-kun being completely unrelated to Kira by saying he was the merely the epitome of the vicious bloodthirsty creatures all children truly are?"

Watari sighed. L had many faults he hoped to iron out in the next generation with Near or Mello, among them his stubborn refusal to pay attention to common sense and abandon his obsession with Kira/Yagami Light. "What did you do?" he said wearily.

"Nothing," L protested, lips twitching.

"Nothing." Watari repeated blandly.

"Nothing," L agreed, smiling nastily at the pictures of an oblivious Yagami Light spread over the table. "A little suggesting, perhaps," he said anything but innocently when Watari stared at him. "I imagine he's doing most of the traumatising himself."

Things had been much easier when L didn't care for anything except solving cases.

* * *

"Did he uncuff you to let you shower?"

"Damn it, Ryuk, I'd only just succeeded in repressing those memories!"

"No?"

"Deep breaths, take deep breaths…"

"Well, if you don't want to talk about the cuffs can we--"

"Ryuk. I do not need or want to hear your theories about what L did with the tapes from the cameras in my room, the subconscious reasoning behind the handcuffs, or whether that foot massage was a biblical allusion or an attempt to cop a feel. Shut up before I throw apples at you again."

"I'm just saying, Light…"

"Are you trying to live vicariously through me? Because I swear you're putting me off sex for good."

"I thought you were already… Sexless? Without sex? Asexual! Besides, watching you and Misa put _me_ off sex and I can't even have it."

"I'd almost managed to forget about her too. Thanks a hell of a lot, Ryuk."

"You're welcome."

_Thump._

"Ouch. That looked like it hurt."

"What do _you_ think? Of course it hurt, you idiot!"

"_I'm_ not the one hitting his head against a wall, Light…"

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

* * *

Sachiko stared at the flowers suspiciously. She would admit it had been a long time, but… wasn't it usually the boy's responsibility to send flowers? And wasn't twelve a little… young to be dating? What sort of message was 'five years, seven months and twenty-one days' anyway?

Still, she smiled, they were nice. And it was always good to be able to tease her son; he needed to smile more, he was looking so pale and stressed lately.


	5. Aftermath, Dare Part Two

For Rianifitria – Aftermath (Dare part two and what happens when Watari's patience finally snaps.)

* * *

The meeting had been a terrible bore, something Watari didn't mind admitting, given that everyone else in the room looked like they felt the same way – France, for instance, wasn't even making a pretence at interest any more, having been throwing increasingly more outlandish paper airplanes at the back of Britain's head for the past twenty minutes. Always good to keep the old rivalry alive.

Normally Watari wouldn't even be present at this sort of thing, and he knew perfectly well who to blame for this.

Kira's own representative (this meeting at least) met his eyes from the other side of the room, lifting slender shoulders in a miniscule shrug. Swathed under almost as many layers as he was, not to mention the wig and severe makeup, she looked almost as uncomfortable as he did, despite having an actual reason to be there. Watari was present only because Kira was and L hated to be out of the loop where Kira was concerned. As 'Hannah' would joke later in the bar – she hadn't quite gotten used to her new station in life, Watari thought, or the extreme secrecy it involved – the law enforcement agencies now got two for the price of one. Like a particularly devoted married couple, she'd once said, and Watari had hushed her almost immediately as if L could be listening in and getting ideas.

That poor little boy in Japan. He almost shuddered to think.

He cast a wary glance at Soichiro Yagami. It was testament to Watari's feelings on the matter of L's… interest regarding Light Yagami that he wouldn't blame Soichiro in the slightest if he tried to shoot L (it was only a matter of time, really). He'd be very disappointed if L died as a consequence, of course, but there were spares.

L was being a very sore trial to Watari's atrophied moral sense.

His disapproval of his ward was not alleviated in the slightest by the fact that he was wearing a leather trench coat in the middle of July. _Hannah _got expertly tailored silk suits that mislead you utterly as to her body shape. Takeshi got Halloween masks and passed out so much candy nobody could remember what he actually wore. (Watari had his theories about this, prompted by L's vile temper every time he had to watch Interpol receiving free candy from his nemesis or whatever immature term he was using lately. The theory was that Kira simply wanted to annoy L with the sweets and the protection of his intermediary's identity was simply a happy bonus.)

"I believe that concludes the meeting," someone said eagerly, and Watari came back to attention without ever giving away that he'd been asleep for the last ten minutes. He glanced around the room, trying to find who spoke and confirming his guess when the US representative, standing and ready to flee, continued, "Unless you have anything else to add, Kira?"

There was a long pause from Kira's end, something that Watari didn't like in the slightest. Neither did Hannah, he noticed, who gave him a puzzled look over the heads of the law enforcement officers between them.

"Yes," Kira said at last, "One last thing."

Watari's terrible feeling increased tenfold at the reluctance it was possible to sense even through voice encoding software. A small voice – it sounded terribly like his mother, a woman who had ruled her household with a rolling pin of iron – told him that if he turned the laptop off now he could probably save Light Yagami years in therapy. Vera Wammy had always had a soft spot for children. Probably wouldn't approve of the mess her son had made of quite a few orphans in his attempt to create the world's greatest detective. Or of the mess said greatest detective wished to make of a single Japanese schoolboy.

"I would like L to be aware of my – my undyingloveforhim," Kira said, words running together in his haste to get them out, and Watari felt his face freeze in an expression of panic that wouldn't be out of place in gore-filled horror movie. He wondered just who had the sort of power over Kira necessary to force such a declaration from him, and the sadistic mind to come up with the idea in the first place.

He didn't have to be in the hotel room to know L's response to the declaration. If there weren't tickets booked for Japan waiting for him when he got back, he'd buy Hannah a circus.

* * *

He almost wished he'd had to buy a circus.

"I think Light-kun's asexual," L said absently, shuffling pictures of the boy around on the table.

"L," Watari said, not bothering to conceal the horrified note in his voice. "He's _twelve_."

"So?" L said. "We both know he's mature for his age."

"Mental maturity is not the same thing as being physically or emotionally mature enough for the sort of thing you're implying."

"Was I implying something?" L wondered.

"_L_." Watari said in a tone of voice that had once, when L was (very) young and called Lawliet and hated being a detective, reduced him to tears.

"I only meant," L said, in an almost aggrieved tone of voice, "that I don't think Light-kun would be remotely interested even if he did meet all the qualifications for romantic relationship."

"Certainly not with you," Watari muttered, not quite _sotto voce _enough.

"That sounds like a challenge." L said, grinning the way he did when he was plotting how best to extract a confession and physical damage was not an option.

"_No_," Watari said sharply. "It is _not_. Why do you insist on taking everything pertaining to the boy as a challenge?"

"Because it is," L said, as if that explained everything.

Watari took a deep breath and resisted the near overwhelming urge to throttle his charge only by recalling just how many millions had gone into making L what he was today. It only now occurred to him what a pity it was that he'd eschewed ethics in favour of results. "We both know how good you are at psychological torture L, there's no need to prove it on Yagami. For god's sake, this has gone far enough."

L scratched one foot with supreme indifference, blinking owlishly. He managed to look almost – almost _endearing_, and the fact that even Watari could see it, knowing L as he did, said much about L's power of manipulation. "I don't understand," L said in a voice as close to guileless as he could manage.

"You – don't – understand?" Watari said dangerously. L looked as if he was mildly regretting his words. "L, how old are you?"

L shrugged, eyeing him warily as he crossed his arms.

"Let me put this another way. How old is Yagami?"

"…Twelve." L said carefully. "As you have already mentioned several times in an increasingly exasperated tone of voice."

"Yes. And what exactly have you been doing in the past few months?"

"…Attempting to validate my hypothesis that Yagami Light is in fact my archrival Kira?"

"_Stalking_, L. You have been _stalking_ the poor boy."

"'Poor boy' nothing," L muttered.

"This has nothing to do with whether or not _you_ think he deserves it! Light Yagami is _twelve years old_, there is no proof other than your own ill-considered belief that he is in any way connected with Kira, and you've gone perilously close to sexual harassment in your juvenile attempts to bother him. Tell me why I should let this continue?"

L thought about it as hard as he could, struggling against the little eight-year-old inside that was cringing at Watari's anger. "Because… I'm the detective and you're the hired help?"

"..."

So that was quite possibly the worst idea L had ever had. Right up there with revealing his identity on national television, or telling Yagami Soichiro that he thought his son sexually attractive although he wouldn't say no to his daughter in a few years if she came with strawberry liqueurs. "And because being a world-class detective leaves very little time for therapy?" he added in a very small voice.

"Well, I'm sure you can take a break for once." Watari said, a note of finality in his voice as he swept the pictures off the table and into a bin.

"Watari?" L said anxiously, watching him systematically dismantle his current base of operations. "Watari –"

Watari looked at him.

Lawliet made a little whimpering noise from where he hid, deep in L's memory. L remembered why exactly he had heirs and found the knowledge even less comforting than usual.

* * *

"Now, you are all here because a family member or friend is concerned-- yes, Takahashi-san?"

"I'm not here because of a friend or family member."

"No? Why are you here, Takahashi-san?"

"I'm here because my subordinate thinks I should stop stalking a boy."

"...Yes, I can understand that. Okay! So you are all here because _someone –_ be it friend, family member or work colleague – is conc-- _yes_, Takahashi-san?"

"My work colleague isn't concerned."

"Surely he must be if you're stalking someone--"

"Not really. At least, not about my mental health or the boy's safety."

"Then _why_, Takahashi-san, do you think he committed you?"

"He's committed me because he felt I was losing focus on my work."

"Of all the irresponsible_... _Right! Everyone in this room is here--"

"I don't understand it at all, because I'm perfectly capable of watching Yagami-kun and completing my work at the same time. I've actually been working even harder lately, to have more time."

"..."

"Yes, Yamaguchi-san?"

"May I please complete my introductory sentence?"

"I suppose."

"_Thank you_. Now, as I was saying--"

"Although it's not a very good one is it? You still haven't explained properly why we're here and what you intend to do."

"I would if someone would just _let me finish_...!"

"How rude of them."

"_Quite._"

"Ah, Yamaguchi-san, you do know you're going purple, don't you? I hope you've had a recent medical check up. It doesn't say much for your blood pressure..."

"Takahashi Daisuke, will you please shut up?!"

"...There's no need to be rude."

"Never... in all my years...!"

"You're only forty-two, Yamaguchi-san, you can't have been doing this job long enough to have an adequate basis of comparison for my rudeness."

"Get out! Now! Get out!"

"All of us? Because I thought we were here for some desperately needed help. Or the rest of them are, anyway."

"Get _out!_"

"Well, if you insist."

"I do! I insist most strenuously!"

"Bye then, Ya-- There was no need to slam the door."

* * *

"Ah, Sato-san. How are you this fine day?"

Sato Hideki chewed aggressively on his thumb, expression petulant beyond words.

Doctor Yoshitaka sighed as he let his files hit the desk with a thump. "Sooner or later, Sato-san, you _are_ going to have to talk."

L stared at him blandly. It should have been blandly, anyway – except… except there was something in his stare that unsettled Yoshitaka. It was wearing on him, gnawing at his sense of accomplishment day by day.

When he had been younger he had discovered that what terrified him the most. It was deep time, it was the true expanse of the universe, it was the utter futility of it all. His physics teacher had once shown his class a video depicting the size of the moon against the Earth, the Earth against other planets, the solar system against the sun against the other stars, until the sun that had dwarfed Neptune was invisible compared to Eta Carinae... Yoshitaka had started laughing, and then came perilously close to crying just watching, and it didn't _stop_, it went on and on –

Sato blinked.

"Perhaps… perhaps we could rearrange this for another day, Sato-san," Yoshitaka said weakly, shaking hands dropping to the drawers in his desk, seeking what his daughter teasingly called his 'happy pills'.

"Certainly," Sato said, and how was it possible for a voice to be so monotone, so empty, so utterly disinterested in his own future, in his eventual fate – how could he sound like that, as if he was content to watch his life pass by into nothing and could apply the same view to humanity, to Earth itself…

L shook his head pityingly as he left.

* * *

"Hello Hideaki-kun! And how are we today? Having fun?"

L blinked at his new psychologist. Something about her hair – the blood red dye job – and perpetually cheerful voice made the hairs rise on the back of his neck. "Very well, thank you, Fujiwara-san."

"Ah, you know I said to call me Megumi, Hideaki-kun!"

L blinked. "That would hardly be appropriate."

"Nonsense! Can't work these things out if my patient doesn't see me as someone to talk to!"

"These things?" L repeated, most definitely not smiling at the thought of what Watari would say to that.

"Now, Hideaki-kun, what's this I hear about stalking a twelve-year-old?"

"Yagami-kun...? He wants to be stalked. Well, stalking is not quite what I'd call it, but still."

For the first time, Fujiwara looked nonplussed. She quickly rallied. "Erm. Right. What makes you say that, Hideaki-kun?"

"Well, he was the one proclaiming undying love," L said mildly. "In a very public setting." He pouted. "I didn't want him to think he was being rejected."

"Uh... that's all very well, Hideaki-kun, but are you sure you're not misinterpreting--"

"Can you misinterpret someone declaring undying love for you in front of several hundred people?"

"Well--"

"And you've got to factor Yagami-kun's personality into your understanding of the situation. It's entirely possible he might have been joking of course, but he usually prefers our games to be private, and it's very unlike him to extend the intimacy to such a large audience."

"Games?" Fujiwara said, looking rather frightened of what he might respond with.

"Oh, nothing like you're thinking." L said blandly. "Because you are a pervert. It's all perfectly innocent, I assure you."

"Wha--_ I'm _the pervert?"

"Don't lie, Fujiwara-san," L said pityingly. "Your mind heard 'games' and 'intimacy' and instantly came up with 'sex', when I merely meant that we know how to annoy each other on every level from 'strangers' up to 'friends'."

"But--"

"It's sad, what this job has obviously done to your mind."

"Now wait just a minute, Hideaki-san–"

"Are you trying to tell me you _didn't_ think of sex the moment I mentioned playing games with Yagami-kun?"

Her cheeks turned almost the same colour as her hair. "Ah. Well."

"See?" L said, shaking his head with a sigh.

"This isn't about me, Hideaki-san!"

"No, of course not," L said innocently. He pulled a lollipop from his pocket, unwrapped it and stuck it in his mouth. Fujiwara stared at him, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. "Well?" he prompted when he bored of the silence. "I think you get paid by the hour, there's still thirty minutes or so left."

"Of course..."

"Fujiwara-san, how long have you been doing this job?"

"I thought I was the one asking questions."

"Go ahead then."

"...Six years next month."

"And do you enjoy it?"

"Yes. No. Sometimes. I mean, you meet interesting people, of course, but sometimes everything gets on top of you, you know?"

L nodded sympathetically. "You like it enough that it's worth those sort of days?"

"Of course it is! I love helping people."

L rolled his eyes while her attention was otherwise occupied. "And what made you want to help people?"

"Well, when I was thirteen..."

* * *

It was approximately three weeks later that L caught up with Yagami Light.

"Hello, Light-kun."

"Gaah!"

L shook his head as he watched the boy pick himself up off the floor.

"Wha- how – where the hell have you been?"

"Exploring the psychiatric hospitals available in your fine city."

Yagami snorted. "Why am I not surprised," he muttered, eyeing L suspiciously.

"It was fun," L said blandly. "Was Light-kun worried about me?"

"No."

"Is Light-kun quite sure?"

"_Yes_. I kept thinking you were going pop up at any moment and start assaulting me again, so I was a little paranoid for awhile-" he paused, and sniffed dismissively, as if someone had said something in response, "-but in the end I almost managed to relax. Guess the holiday's over."

"I'm sorry Light-kun feels he has to conceal his true feelings in such a way."

Yagami stared. "Why the hell did they let you out again?"

"I had a nice long chat with one of my psychologists, she decided I was no danger to anyone, and here we are."

Yagami appeared to think about that for a long moment. "...you drugged her."

"No."

"Held her family hostage."

"No."

"Threatened her."

"No."

"Blackmailed her."

"No."

He paused, frowning. "I'm fresh out of ideas."

L patted him on the head.

"I thought you went to therapy to sort that sort of thing out?" the boy yelped, pulling away.

L grinned, ignoring the glare it earned him. "And give up on you, Kira-kun?" he said innocently. "Never."

Strangely, Kira did not seem at all comforted by that statement. Denial was a terrible, terrible thing.


	6. Collaboration

Collaboration

(For Mistress Sayu: A mini future AU in which Mello, Matt and Near are, for once, totally in agreement: Kira must go. By any means necessary.)

Near looked at Mello. Facing him, Mello hunched over and munched ferociously on his chocolate bar. Matt appeared to be engrossed in his video game, and was in fact managing to keep a sceptical eye on both of them.

"Are we agreed?" Near said at last, twirling a lock of hair around his finger.

Mello nodded, somehow managing to look intimidating with his mouth bulging with half-chewed chocolate.

Matt paused his game and looked at them. "For the record, I still think this is a bad idea."

Mello glared at him. It was a very eloquent glare. It said, _what the hell Matt? Remember your place as a good minion and support me in my suicidal idea._ Matt gave him a flat stare that said _I'm your friend, I'm on your side, of course I'll support you. Just remember that I was against this from the beginning._

"Okay," he sighed. "Let's get this over with."

* * *

Sitting in front of his computer, vaguely aware of the dawn lightening the sky outside, Yagami Light worked his way through the FBI's Violent Criminal Apprehension database.

"You're gonna need glasses," Ryuk said.

Light blinked, torn out of 'the zone' as Ryuk sneeringly put it. "What?"

"You're gonna need glasses, you keep staring at the computer in this sort of light."

Light tilted his head carefully from side to side, stretching tired muscles. "What would you know about human eyes?"

"Enough to know that they can be damaged," Ryuk said haughtily, feigning insult at Light's dismissive tone.

"Are you _worried_ about me, Ryuk?" Light teased, covering a yawn as the shinigami scowled.

"Worried? _Me?_ Are you delusional, Light?"

Light smiled, a lopsided expression very different to the emptily perfect smiles he gave other people. "If you say so, Ryuk," he said sleepily, turning back to the computer and preparing to shut it down.

Ryuk stretched himself out on Light's bed, and stared at the ceiling. "You could make the eye deal with me," he said absently. "No matter what the original state of the human's eyes, after making the deal they have a shinigami's vision. Y'know, perfect."

"You _know_ what my response is going to be to that," Light said absently, standing up and carefully stretching the kinks out of abused muscles. "Really, Ryuk. Give it up." He swayed a little as a he staggered over to the bed, dropping to rest beside Ryuk's stationary body. It used to unnerve him, Ryuk's stillness, the unsettling understanding that he was anxious sleeping near him because Ryuk didn't breathe, his heart didn't beat, no part of him moved involuntarily. "G'night," he mumbled, curling up, vaguely aware of Ryuk's clawed fingers flicking at loose strands of hair falling into his face. He used to worry about that too, having those claws and heavy rings so close to his eyes.

"Good morning," Ryuk responded, grinning. "I'll wake you in an hour, yeah?"

When there was no response to his question save slow, even breathing, Ryuk assumed the answer was yes. He considered the human next to him carefully. It had been suspiciously calm for the past few days. Ryuk knew full well what that meant, and if Light weren't so tired he'd know what it meant too. Someone, somewhere, was planning something.

Ryuk couldn't wait.

* * *

When the NPA passed on a warning to quit or face the consequences signed M N & M, Light laughed. He sent a dismissive response, and then forgot all about it.

He would bitterly regret that.

* * *

"Look, I've already _tried_ cracking his system. It's _impossible_; it's like, years ahead of its time!"

"Then the obvious conclusion," Near said, and was Matt imagining the 'you total moron' vibe to his voice? "Is to crack other systems. Think of the people whose good opinion Kira cares for, or at least, requires in order to function at the level that he does. Consider how best to damage that good opinion in the least possible time. I'm sure you will find a use for yourself somehow."

Matt glared, but his mind was already coming up with creative outlets for his skills that he'd never (seriously) considered before. He almost pitied Kira. Almost.

* * *

Light had been sitting outside the restaurant, staring into nothing, for three hours before the bowl of ice cream suddenly appeared in front of him.

He stared blankly at the sundae.

L nudged the bowl a little closer across the table, clearly believing that somehow ice cream would solve all his woes. When taken into consideration that _L_ was the one making the gesture, it became a truly selfless (and totally misguided) attempt to cheer him up. Light buried his head in his hands.

"It's not that bad, Light-kun," L said, quite possibly the most bare-faced lie since a snake said 'I have absolutely no clue where they got the idea of eating that fruit'.

Light made a noise closely related to keening.

L patted him gingerly on the shoulder.

"Yes, there there, Light," Ryuk said. "It could have been worse."

"I assure you, they will be disciplined," L said, which was about as useful as a hot fudge sundae at making the situation better.

"You think this is funny!" Light accused, face still pressed into his hands. "You think it's absolutely hilarious!"

"A little," L admitted. "You must admit that ads popping up worldwide saying variations on 'L, let's do that again sometime, love Kira' are quite amusing, and at the very least, inventive."

Light lifted his head from his hands to stare silently at L for a long moment

L took a spoonful of ice cream as he studied Light's expression. "Ah," he said. "…That wasn't what you were so upset about?"

"Those little _bastards_," Light said.

* * *

Ryuk stared at the TV, and wondered if this was the sensation called 'dreaming' humans were always going on about. Ryuk didn't dream, but he watched a lot of TV, and he watched a lot of Light. He still couldn't tell most of the time if a character on TV was dreaming, but this just felt like something that would make Light hit his head against a wall in the futile hope of waking up from reality.

He looked at Light, finally asleep after hours curled up into a whimpering ball, ignoring every little bleeping noise from the phones or the computer that said someone was trying to contact him. He looked back at the TV.

"And when not investigating murders, I like to relax with the new, special edition Kira-endorsed range of adult funtime toys!"

He changed the channel and watched static for awhile.

Yeah, probably best not to tell Light about this.

* * *

Kira Advises US President To Shut The Hell Up!

Just Let Them Die, Kira Says Of Kidnapping

L Tops, Asserts Sex Expert

Light stared at the papers for a long moment.

"Uh, Light?" Ryuk asked nervously.

Light turned to look at Ryuk, expression utterly blank.

"Nothing!" Ryuk said quickly. "Nothing… uh. You okay…?"

"I'm fine," Light said vacantly. "Absolutely fine. Where's my Death Note?"

"Uh… you don't have a Death Note any more, Light. Remember?"

"Oh," Light said. "Right." He continued to stare blankly into space. "Ryuk," he said, five minutes later and probably completely unaware any time had passed at all. "May I borrow a pen and a piece of paper?"

"Sure, Light," Ryuk said hastily and had half torn a page out of his Death Note before he remembered just what a bad idea that was. "Wait a minute!"

"Ryuk." Light said, in a flat, dead tone Ryuk really didn't like.

"Hey, nothing would make me happier than to give you some paper," Ryuk said quickly, "but you know the only stuff I've got to hand is the wrong sort of thing to give you-"

"On the contrary," Light said flatly, "It's exactly the sort of thing to give me."

"Suicide isn't the answer, Light." Ryuk said, sounding almost worried.

"Who said anything about suicide?"

"I still can't let you have any."

"It'll be worth it," Light wheedled.

Ryuk was seriously tempted; Light had the best ideas about how to kill people in ridiculously inventive ways… but no, it was Ryuk's responsibility to keep Light in the human realm and as entertaining as possible for as long as he could. Sort of. He may have had to misinterpret a few things, but those were basically his orders, if you went strategically deaf at a few points.

"You'd forfeit," Ryuk said, without much hope it would dissuade him.

"It'd still be worth it, I assure you." Light said. He glared at the papers, something that reassured Ryuk a little, being the first sign of emotion he'd seen from Light since the headlines had first caught their eyes. "You know the worst thing about this?"

"Uh… 'L tops'…?"

"No… although that comes a close second…"

"'Kira endorses sex toys'?"

Light turned so fast Ryuk leapt backwards automatically and didn't even feel ashamed of the fact that he was essentially cowering from a human. "What!"

"Kira tells FBI to go to hell?" Ryuk corrected hurriedly.

"What the hell did you just say about sex toys?"

"Nothing! I got confused, that's all! I was watching the squishy parts channels on late-night TV last night, you know how it makes me laugh," Ryuk babbled.

Light continued to stare with great suspicion.

"You know, all the noises and contortionism and multiple names for body parts, and nobody actually seems to do the job they're hired to do, have you noticed that? "I'm here to fix your dishwasher," they say, and they never actually do, and I dunno why they want to put their-"

"Please don't talk any more," Light said. His suspicious expression had been slowly replaced with an utterly repulsed one. It was as if he'd left a mind game with L and run straight into Misa. The expressional transition was exactly the same, only slower.

Ryuk gratefully shut up.

"The problem," Light said, slowly and deliberately, obviously pretending for the sake of his sanity that Ryuk's account of his research into porn hadn't occurred, "Is that I can't even respond properly."

Ryuk felt he was probably missing something. "Why not? I'd have thought you'd jump at the chance to ruin L's reputation on a grand scale."

"But for once he didn't do anything!" Light said in an aggravated tone of voice, somewhere between indignant and insulted. "This is just _low_, and trying to get even by humiliating _him _for it would just be hitting the bottom and starting to dig."

"Oh," Ryuk said, thinking that was a remarkably fair-minded thought for Light, especially given that L was involved. He wondered if Light had noticed they'd missed their destination and were heading towards a bakery. "This means war, then?"

Light's smile was a savage, bitter thing that made the feathers on Ryuk's shoulders stand on end. "Oh yeah. This means war."

* * *

Matt looked at the box with the label 'Just A Friendly Warning' again. It had arrived a week late. He had a terrible feeling the contents would have been very different if its maker had waited just one more day before sending it. "…Mello?"

"Yeah?"

"My fortune cookie says 'your computer is slowly being destroyed by an irremediable virus'."

"Yeah, I know. Mine says 'you are so fucked'." He looked over at Near at the other end of the room, calmly putting the finishing touches to yet another puzzle. "How about you, Near?"

"'Prepare for death'."

"Nice. I'm starting to kinda like this guy."

Matt stared at them. "Neither of you are worried that he knows where we are, who we are, and that we're responsible for the tarnishing of his rep worldwide?"

"We already knew he knew about this place. You remember those stupid flirty presents to L."

"What was so flirty about a bunch of apples?"

"Even you ought to know the amount of symbolism in an apple, Matt. Also, a pair of handcuffs? _Seriously_?"

Matt still thought that was more likely to have been a remark on L's kinks rather than Kira's, but couldn't be bothered to rehash the whole argument and not speak to Mello for a month again. "I don't think you're paying attention to what I'm saying. What do you think L would do to you if you did this sort of thing to him?"

"But we didn't do anything to him," Mello said blankly.

Sometimes Matt wondered if maybe Mello had ended up in Wammy's House by beating up another kid and stealing their records. "What if he actually likes Kira's presents, ever thought of that?"

"Matt, he's not going to disown us because we pissed off Kira. He does it himself all the time."

Matt began to suspect Mello was deliberately missing the point.

"I believe Matt may be trying to say that 'pissing each other off' seems between L and Kira to be more about friendship than actual annoyance." Near paused. If Matt thought Near actually gave a damn about annoying Mello, he would have been suspicious and wondered why it was almost as if he was considering how he could make things worse. "And possibly the desire for sex."

Matt closed his eyes in something approaching despair as Mello spluttered and sought the correct words to express his anger.

"Consider." Near said. "The exchanges are ritual in nature, following an established and prescribed pattern. Both participants seem to be remarking on things known only by them, making it impossible to correctly hypothesise from outside observance as to the nature of the messages, ensuring privacy and that the connection can only exist between and be maintained by the two of them. This connection-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Mello yelled, stomping over to Near, probably to do something stupid or painful.

"Yes, a terrible thought, isn't it?" Near said blandly. "I know it is not very… nice… to think about L or Kira having sex-"

"Damn right," Mello growled. Matt wondered if his discomfort was from a child's perspective – a grown-up I hero-worship, having sex? Ewwww! – or from a far more worrying alternative.

Near nodded as if he was agreeing. Matt didn't like the sense of foreboding he had. "By all accounts it is a messy, poorly-coordinated business that is frequently uncomfortable, animalistic and potentially quite painful. However, it must involve pleasure somewhere or else nobody would pay any attention to the basic biological imperative, and given the frequency of contact between Kira and L and, as I have already mentioned, the intimate and exclusive nature of that contact-"

"Arrggghhh!"

Matt winced. It was going to take forever to get rid of the bloodstains.

* * *

"Light-kun, may I ask why three of my potential heirs have turned up in multiple criminal databases for serious crimes ranging from terrorism to murder? Under their real names?"

"Hello, L, nice to see you, how are you this fine day, what have you been doing lately? You see how easy it is to be polite?"

L sighed. "Hello Light-kun," he repeated dully. "Nice to see you. How are you. I won't ask what you've been doing, since I already know."

"That's better," Light approved, and shoved the cake and coffee he'd ordered – just in case – towards L. "_Now_ you can ask intrusive questions. We'll make you a functioning member of society yet."

L's scathing looks got better with age, it seemed. "Answer my question, Light-kun."

"Seriously, are you _blaming_ me? After what those-"

"Please, Light-kun, don't make me kick you."

"Those. Little. …_Children__…_ did?"

"You yourself are not out of your teens yet, Light-kun."

"At least I'm in them!"

"I believe Mello may be thirteen next year…"

"No, he won't," Light said flatly. "Because I'm going to kill him. I just know this mess was his idea."

"Really? Personally I'd have suspected Near."

Light frowned. "Seriously? I just figured Mello was the one with the unreasonable attachment and therefore jealousy issues, so…" he shrugged. It was one of those strangely informative and eloquent shrugs that meant whatever the other person wanted it to mean.

L nodded understandingly. "But Near is the one with ruthlessness necessary to see a threat and take steps to remove it without considering how it might harm the individual."

"This wasn't just ruthless, it was malevolent," Light said bitterly. "And I know a thing or two about malevolence."

"I'm sure."

"And worst of all, it was completely unnecessary! I was going to quit soon anyway!"

"Utterly un- _what_."

"You didn't think I'd be doing this job forever, did you?" Light said, with a disconcerted look at L's stunned expression.

L stared at him as if he'd suddenly started speaking gibberish. "What's wrong with this job?"

"I don't want to end up like you," Light said. There might have been a note of pity in his voice as he looked at L, but he had the utmost faith that L's ego would cushion him from the hurt anyone else would have felt. He sighed when L continued to look blank and disbelieving. "There's nothing wrong with being a detective, per se," he said patiently. "I just happen to have other things planned. Or did have, anyway." He scowled, stabbed disconsolately at his own long since cooled food.

"So… you have no plans to quit anymore?"

"What, and let them think they've won? _No_."

"But you now have the perfect opportunity," L pointed out, "And _you_ know you're not quitting because of them…"

"But they don't," Light snapped, "They'll think they've succeeded in driving me off. Any attempt of mine to claim otherwise would just look like a very poor attempt to save face. _My pride won__'__t stand it_."

L sipped his coffee and concealed his grin. Very poorly.

"You needn't look so smug," Light snarled, stabbing a finger in L's direction. "I'm still quitting, it's just going to be on _my_ terms, dammit."

"Whatever you say, Kira-kun," L said. He tilted his head and smiled. Light blinked, stunned out his anger, which was probably the idea. When he'd finally managed to stop reacting to L's passes, L had quickly found other ways to irritate him, and Light had almost forgotten just how uncomfortable and disconcerting the brain-breaking idea of sex and L was.

"I – no – you – that – what?" Okay, so he'd completely forgotten how disconcerting the thought of L as a sexual being was.

L's grin became, if possible, even more smug.

"…I'm still not legal, you pervert."

"Actually," L said, and Light's brain slowed to a near halt with horror, "the age of consent here-"

"You are _not _a sex tourist," Light snapped. "And _I__'__m_ not a – I'm not for sale, alright? You can't pay enough for me to have sex with you."

"You vastly underestimate my resources," L said.

"I'm clearly vastly underestimating your perversion," Light said, heading dangerously towards being unnerved to the point of uselessness. "I don't get it. I'm good-looking, sure, and give me another two or three years I'll agree with you that everyone should want me, but right now – what is _wrong _with you?"

"It's the eyes," L said, with all the appearance of absolute sincerity. "How expressive they are. Perhaps it is that you are aesthetically pleasing in a way that transcends cultural borders – something about the way your body is proportioned and how your facial features are balanced and aligned…"

"Oh god," Light said, and tried to remember when he'd been able to consider his looks a good thing. He _knew_ (or fervently hoped) that L's sexual interest was a pretence designed to freak him out. Unfortunately, knowing this didn't make it any less effective. "L, please, can we get back to discussing which one of your brats I should be trying to kill?"

"If you like," L said indifferently. "Though I believe I may have a better idea…"

* * *

"It's a very neat solution," Light admitted grudgingly to Ryuk as they walked home. "He gets to give them a reward of sorts at the same time that he allows me to punish them. I am so impressed I may forgive him for the sexual harassment." He threw an apple into the air, unconcerned about the possibility of needing to catch it again.

"…Seriously?" Ryuk said, picking apple pips from between his teeth.

"God, no." Light rolled his eyes. "I am traumatised, deeply traumatised. He should be paying for my therapy."

"There are no therapists, Light, who could possibly deal with you and your problems."

"…I thought you liked my problems," Light said. "Not that I have any." He considered that statement and added a correction. "…That I see as problems."

"You're going to spend a lot of time and effort repairing your reputation just so you can quit with dignity." Ryuk said. "Even I know there's something seriously messed up about that. Light, you need help."

"…Your epiphanies, Ryuk. How often do they occur, once a century? I thought you _knew_ I was seriously messed up, I thought that was my attraction for you."

"Nah, it's how pretty you are," Ryuk joked, performing a momentary but creditable imitation of L. "Your damaged mind, that's just a bonus."

"_Excuse me_?" Light demanded, outraged. "My mind is not _damaged_!"

"Oh, I get it," Ryuk said, a note of realisation in his voice. "This is that human thing about being really careful not to offend anyone, isn't it? Your mind isn't 'damaged', it's 'differently abled' or something, right? 'Cause it works perfectly, just in all the wrong ways."

"I have no idea what you mean by that," Light said stiffly. "I am brilliant, and you know it."

"Is someone feeling inferior?" Ryuk mocked, and took a second apple from Light's pocket.

"It is very difficult to maintain a healthy sense of superiority in the sort of circumstances L insists upon creating." Light said carefully. "Not impossible, mind you, but difficult."

"Three years and you'll be eighteen, Light."

"…Thank you, Ryuk. I had no idea that was how old I would be until you said that. All these years, the art of recognising the day I was born has simply eluded me."

Some days, it was a safe bet to say Ryuk understood perfectly why Rem had wanted to kill Light the moment she met him. "You'll be eighteen," Ryuk repeated with strained patience. "You'll no longer be at a disadvantage. He won't be able to unnerve you with inappropriate advances any more."

"…That displays an understanding of human culture, society and morality that I thought was quite beyond your grasp," Light said, staring at him. "Are you telling me you actually understand that there's something wrong with an adult human making sexual advances towards a child?"

Ryuk thought about it. "Uh, yeah…?" he said doubtfully after a long moment. "I don't get half the stuff that has you flinching-"

"I don't flinch."

"-but I'm pretty sure I sort of get it."

"…You still can't tell the difference between willing and unwilling, can you?"

"Nope. And since that seems to be the whole problem with it…" He shrugged. "You don't make it easy, either. I mean-"

"No," Light said firmly. "No more about your foray into porn, I beg you. Remember, there are no therapists."

"Oh yeah, that's right…" Ryuk remembered. "I oughta try and take care that you don't get even more messed up than you already are."

Light smiled brightly. "Messed up? Me?" His smile widened impossibly as Ryuk made an odd movement with his wings and propelled himself backwards. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"…There's no point, is there?"

"Absolutely none," Light affirmed. "Come _on_, Ryuk, if I was any more twisted I'd just sit in a corner laughing manically. You're just lucky I happen to balance perfectly on the line between functional and non-functional crazy-awesome."

Ryuk stared at him for a long moment. "You know what, Light? L's good for you."

"He is not!" Light hissed, looking utterly nauseated at the idea.

Ryuk ignored him. "He keeps you in check. The minute he leaves you're all 'I am God!' and that's funny, but nowhere near as fun."

"…Enough. Ryuk, we're going home. We're going to make sure those brats get what they deserve. Jokes about my mental state are off limits until you can look at an apple without turning into a crazed junkie. And if you watch porn, never, ever tell me about it, okay? I don't want to hear it. It would be of absolutely no interest to me even if you weren't involved."

"I begin to suspect that by human standards, you're something of a freak."

Light gave a heavy sigh of exhaustion and exasperation. He resolutely did not say the appropriate words, 'God, why me?'

Somewhere, probably eating cake, L was grinning, he just knew it.

* * *

"I have a bad feeling about this," Matt said.

"L is letting us investigate a case," Mello said. "L! I mean, pity it's not on our own, but still…"

"Of course it would not be on our own," Near said, with a disdainful glance at Mello, and Matt _knew_ he definitely wasn't imagining the 'you moron' thing this time.

"I heard Watari tell Roger L spent a week talking Kira out of killing us," he said gloomily.

"Matt, this is the most awesome thing in the history of awesome things," Mello said, as sternly as possible considering how many times he was using the word awesome. "Don't fucking spoil it."

"You don't find this just the tiniest bit suspicious?"

"Matt, have I told you lately that you're just a tiniest bit paranoid?"

"Mello," Matt said fiercely, "There is no way Kira's held his own with L for as long as he has by being easy-going and letting a bunch of kids discredit him."

Near actually bothered to raise his head and look in Matt's general direction. "If you are so concerned over Kira's possible reprisals, why did you undertake the task in the first place?"

Matt stared at him. "Uh, hello? _You pretty much forced me to!_ And you still haven't given me back my Game Boy!"

"Boys," Roger said with strained patience as he led them into the room where L's computer waited. Maybe Matt _was_ paranoid, because he could have sworn Roger looked almost pitying as he shook his head and left them without a backward glance. And… hang on, why were there two computers…?

"Welcome," L said.

Matt was going to tease Mello about hyperventilating later. It would only be a little exaggeration, after all.

"Hello," Near said, obviously understanding that L expected some sort of acknowledgement and that it wasn't going to be forthcoming from Mello or Matt.

That was a sigh from L, definitely. "Roger has explained to you the case and the rules you are expected to abide by while investigating?"

A trio of nods, some more enthusiastic than others.

"You cannot be expected to work on this case without guidance. Unfortunately, I am too busy currently to supervise you."

There was a pause. Matt wondered if Mello and Near were feeling the same creeping sensation of terror that he was.

"Let me introduce your colleague in this endeavour."

The screen of the other computer flickered on. The letters that formed Kira's name rearranged themselves momentarily into a grinning face.


End file.
